


Someone Left Behind

by Moontune



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Character Death, Family, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, I tried to avoid using pronouns for the reader completely but it just wouldn't work, Mild Gore, Not Romance, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Reader-Insert, Tags May Change, Violence, they/them pronouns for reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 51,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontune/pseuds/Moontune
Summary: Deciding that you've had enough of the mystery behind your uncle's disappearance, you take it upon yourself to investigate the studio and find out what really happened to him. Along the way, you come across even more mysteries surrounding the old studio that he once worked in.





	1. Moving Pictures

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super hyped for chapter four, and I just had to write this down before I lost the idea entirely! In a way, I suppose it's an early celebration for the release of the new chapter ^^

You never knew your uncle, as he had gone missing several years before you were born. Your mother spoke fondly of him whenever she had the chance, and how his love of music led him to his work at a now-abandoned animation studio. She would occasionally show you some of the cartoons that featured his work; the unique melodies seemed to put her at ease.

  
Perhaps that was why you took an interest in music yourself. At a young age, you yearned to please your mother, and would try your hand at writing and playing your own songs in hopes that it would bring a smile to her face. It worked, and she encouraged you to pursue a career themed around your musical passion.

  
She praised you with each new song and every tune you played. On extremely rare occasions she'd comment about how similar you were to your uncle, and spoke of how proud he'd be if he were still here.

  
You knew she only had the best of intentions when she spoke those words, but words such as those only stirred up mixed emotions. As you grew, you became more and more aware of just how strange it was for an esteemed music director to just suddenly disappear with no clue as to why or how. This led to you developing one of your more... unhealthy interests.

  
You were determined to find out what happened to your vanished uncle. Whenever you weren't working on schoolwork or practicing your songs, you took up researching about your uncle and the studio he worked at. You spent countless nights awake reading about the prodigious music director that was Sammy Lawrence, and the small animation studio known as Joey Drew Studios.

  
You would find as many newspaper articles as you could about the studio and it's workers, and during your investigation, you found that it wasn't just your uncle that had gone missing under mysterious circumstances - everyone who'd been working at the studio had just up and vanished.

  
You were certain that it had something to do with that accursed studio.

  
So, when the opportunity came, you decided to investigate the abandoned building yourself to find answers.

 

* * *

 

The sky was dark as the moon sat high in the sky. You had decided to sneak into the old animation studio under the cover of night as to not attract any unnecessary attention. You came prepared with a messenger bag filled with the essentials - a water bottle, a notepad, a pen and pencil, and a few band-aids just in case.

  
Getting inside was surprisingly easy, as there were no fences surrounding the building and the lock on the entrance was extremely weak. Stepping in and closing the door behind you, you looked around at the dim hallway. There were a few posters featuring Bendy plastered on the walls, before the short corridor led to a more open room.

  
Walking forward, you took note of the projector in the corner of the room and the desk on the other side. You looked around a bit more, examining the reels of film on the wall and skimming through a book you had found on the long tabletop in the middle of the room. The book (entitled _The Illusion of Living_ ) seemed to be an occultish piece of literature about bringing cartoons to life through dark magic, and the contents inside confused you greatly.

  
You weren't unfamiliar with cults and demonology. It was actually a topic that you knew quite well, as a few of your old friends from high school had dabbled in some of the stuff. You personally steered clear of such things, but despite that, you were rather knowledgeable.

  
Which was why the material inside confused you; you had never seen symbols or incantations like these before. Maybe you could get back into contact with some of your old friends once you're finished here, and have them look over the contents of this strange book. With this thought in mind, you tucked the book away into your bag and continued on.

  
Deciding to check out the hallway on the left side of the room, you walked down the corridor to find a small area. A drawing desk sat in the corner with a chair and a Bendy cutout leaning against a wall, and a boarded up doorway leading to who-knows-where was right behind it. You looked through the boards to see another cutout and a stairway leading up to what you assumed was the upper level of the studio. Looking at the boards and the large spaces between, you figured that you could probably squeeze between the wooden boards and get through.

  
_Maybe later..._ You thought to yourself. After all, you still had the rest of this floor to investigate.

  
Turning around, you walked back down the hallway and through the larger room toward a hallway in the right corner. You tried opening the door beside the large cabinet, only to find it locked. Oh well, moving on...

  
Entering the next room, you came to a halt as you saw words scribbled ominously on the wall in black ink.

  
_Dreams come true_

  
Well, that wasn't unsettling in the least.

  
You huffed slightly at the sight, turning your gaze down to the mess of empty papers littering the lower wall and floor. There was a voice in the back of your mind telling you to run far, far away and never come back. But, like an idiot teenager in a modern horror film, you ignored that voice and continued on.

  
You immediately came upon a room with the sign "Ink Machine" above the door frame. Inside the large room was... well, it was definitely a machine, and a big one at that. What the hell was this thing needed for, anyway? To produce ink? How much ink did this studio need for it to require a contraption such as this?

  
You began regretting your decision to come here. You were still on the main floor of the studio and you already had way more questions than answers. Hell, you didn't have any answers. All you had was some occult book and a great concern as to what exactly happened at this studio.

  
There was nothing else of note to this room; besides the ink machine, there was nothing but a few planks of wood, a cabinet, a few chairs, and a bendy cutout. With that, you left and checked if any doors were unlocked. None were, so you went down an open hallway.

  
The door beside the shelves was, unsurprisingly, locked. To your right was another artist's desk and another Bendy cutout with a little space of it's own. How many cutouts did this studio need? Why was this necessary? You could understand if one or two were needed as references for the artists and animators, but this is what? The fifth Bendy cutout you found so far?

  
Running a hand through your hair, you stared at the cutout awkwardly for a few more moments before continuing down the right hallway. You then came to another fork in the road, with one path to your right leading to another open room, and another to your left leading to-

  
"What the hell is that?" You asked yourself out loud. Approaching the left room, you stared in utter dismay at the elevated ink-stained operation table in front of you. You couldn't help but stare dumbly at it, unsure of what to think.

  
What did an animation studio need this thing for? It looked like some medieval torture device, and in this light, those ink stains almost looked like _blood_.

  
Finally snapping out of your shocked state, you take in the rest of your surroundings. There was another cabinet to the left, and to the right... more ominous words written on the wall in ink. Fantastic.

  
_Who's laughing now?_

  
Definitely not you, and you definitely did _not_ plan on sticking around much longer. Turning on your heel you retreated back to the exit, though you paused when you saw that the door closest to the ink machine room was wide open.

  
A part of you was curious, as you could have sworn that it had been locked earlier. In fact, you distinctly remembered checking it just to make sure. Was there somebody else here in the studio with you? Perhaps a former worker, or the studio owner?

  
Sighing, you pushed your curiosity to the back of your mind and ignored the now-open door. It was probably just some teenagers sneaking in and doing whatever it was that teenagers do these days.

  
Finally, you found yourself back where you began. While you were still curious about the strange disappearance of your uncle and the studio's employees, your sense of self-preservation told you that it was a mystery best left for someone else to solve.

  
Grasping the doorknob, you twisted it and prepared to leave. However, when you turned the knob, you only found that it was locked.

  
"What the-!?" You sputtered, attempting to open the door once more. Nope; it was still locked, and it still won't budge.

  
You groaned in frustration, knocking your head against the wooden door and keeping it there for a good few moments.

  
"Sure, why not let this happen?" You muttered, stepping back from the locked exit and glaring at the door, as if you could intimidate it into opening. Letting out an exasperated sigh, you turned back around. Maybe there was another exit somewhere else in this godforsaken studio.

  
So, you made your way back where you had been before you stormed off, opting to check the mysteriously opened door last. Instead of going into the strange operation table room, you went right into the other open room to find six empty pedestals and a large switch; presumably for the ink machine.

  
No clues to the missing workers; or your uncle, for that matter. Staring blankly around the bland room, you turned around and took to the only other hallway you had not yet walked down.

  
Immediately to your right was two doors, and between them was a tape recorder sitting on a small shelf. You shrugged and pressed play, pleasantly surprised when it actually worked and played a tape that was already inserted within the device.

  
"At this point, I don't get what Joey's plan is for this company. The animations sure aren't getting done on time anymore, and I certainly don't see why we need this... machine. It's noisy, it's messy, and who needs this much ink anyway?"

  
You smiled slightly at that - at least you and this recorded stranger agreed on something.

  
"And get this, Joey had each one of us donate something from our work station. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room. To help appease the Gods, Joey says. To keep things going."

  
Appease the Gods, huh? It must've had something to do with that book of demons you grabbed earlier - it probably belonged to Joey, if you had to guess.

  
"I think he's lost his mind - but hey, he writes the cheques. But I tell you what, if one more of these pipes burst, I'm outta here!"

  
The recording cut out, and you sighed softly as the eerily silent atmosphere returned.

  
"You and me both, buddy." You muttered, before checking to see if the doors were unlocked. Surprise, surprise... they weren't.

  
You rolled your eyes; at this point, you don't even know why you tried. You now regretted not bringing your lock-pick along with you; now that would have been useful.

  
Continuing on, you walked further down the hall, not bothering to check the other two doors you passed by. You wound up in what seemed to be a screening room, with a white screen on the right wall and several chairs set up theater-style, a projector placed behind them. You went in and looked around a bit, finding shelves full of bacon soup and film reels, as well as a large button on the wall behind the projector. Also presumably for the ink machine. No recordings, and no hints to the disappearance of your uncle.

  
This search seemed to be a lost cause, and you already wanted to go home. Unfortunately, as demonstrated earlier, leaving the studio wasn't an option anymore.

  
You were about to leave the screening room, when you heard a "click!" from behind you. Looking back, you watched in awe as the projector turned itself on, and projected an episode of Bendy's cartoon. It appeared to be a Christmas special, taking place in the winter as the little devil darlin' built a snowman. You couldn't resist the smile that crept it's way to your face; you remember watching this episode every winter with your mother when it used to air on the television. It's been years since you last saw a Bendy cartoon, and it was just as charming as you remembered.

  
Shaking your head slightly, you mentally reminded yourself as to why you were here.

  
You brushed the projector suddenly turning on as faulty wiring, the place was really old, after all; it's been around since the mid-twenties, according to the news articles you read. Leaving the screening room, you made your way over to the mysteriously opened door. Looking in, you found a staircase leading down to what appeared to be a dining area. There was a cutout leaning against a wooden pillar at the base of the stairs, right beside a clock-in.

  
Walking down the staircase, you looked around more thoroughly. There was a door in the corner, beside the staircase, and a wide hallway on the other side of the room. You stopped momentarily at the clock-in, noticing that someone's card was still placed in it.

  
Henry? Wasn't that the former animator for the studio? You recalled your mother mentioning him briefly, he had quit a few years before the studio shut down. Why was his card still here?

  
You huffed once again in annoyance. So many questions, and no answers. Things were definitely not going your way today.

  
Making your way down the wide hallway, you found more boards blocking the corridor.

  
You stared bitterly at the planks of wood, before clambering over them and continuing down the blocked-off area. You were sick of all the inaccessible areas - how was anyone supposed to get anywhere? Sure, it's a creepy abandoned studio that was well past it's prime, but still.

  
Walking down the stairs to your left, you continued downward. The staircase was rather long, but you made it to the bottom without tripping on scattered wooden boards or falling through weak steps. You turned to the right and there was... more stairs.

  
_Just great._

  
Stopping briefly to grab a drink from your water bottle, you continued down the stairs as you placed it back into your bag. You managed to make it to the bottom of this staircase only to find another set of stairs to your right once more. You groaned in agony, but continued on nevertheless.

  
It seemed as though you were walking into the bottomless depths of an inky hell.


	2. The Old Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journeying deeper into the abandoned studio, you find much more than a couple of audio recordings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't properly edited this chapter yet, so I apologise for any errors;;

The stairwell down seemed to go on forever, but eventually you finally made it to a small hallway. At the end was a shutter-style gate with a switch beside it, and two doors could be seen on the right wall. On the left wall were several more posters promoting Bendy cartoons, and a few violins rested against the wooden wall. One item in particular caught your eye, and that was a large monkey wrench.

  
You picked up the heavy tool, and examined it a bit. You had a feeling in your gut that it might be useful further down the road, and held onto it. You then checked both of the doors on the right, only to find that they were locked. At this point, you weren't exactly surprised.

  
Approaching the gate, you pulled the lever and watched as it slowly opened to reveal a small room with a pool table. Entering the room, you looked around to find nothing of use to you. A few boxes and barrels piled up in the corner, and a few music stands with flimsy pieces of sheet music. You absentmindedly picked up one of the papers, looking over the music and humming the tune to yourself.

  
_The Lighter Side of Hell... By Sammy Lawrence._

  
You sighed softly, folding up the musical piece and tucking it gently into your bag. It might not be a clue to how he disappeared, but it couldn't hurt to take home a keepsake.

  
Squaring up, you turned your gaze to the door on the other side of the room. You hoped to the high heavens that it wasn't locked, and that you wouldn't have to trek all the way back up those goddamned stairs. Going down them was difficult enough.

  
Much to your surprise and relief, the door was unlocked and opened with ease. There was an Alice Angel poster immediately to your right, and to the left was an open room, as well as a stairwell leading up to another room.

  
Deciding that you had enough of stairs for now, you went into the open area, and nearly dropped the wrench when you saw where you had ended up.

  
Right in front of you was an enormous sign taking up the entire wall. Large black letters spelled out "Music Department", with a smaller sign beneath reading "Director Sammy Lawrence". If you were gonna find anything about your uncle, this would be the place to look.

  
Before you did anything else, you looked around a bit more. To the left was an open hallway, albeit a bit dark. Turning around, you found a wide staircase, leading down to an exit.

  
You paused once again. The way out of this creepy studio was right in front of you. You could leave this place and forget that any of this ever happened.

  
But you were so close now. You were in the music department, the place where you were sure to find the answers you desperately longed for. You had come so far, could you really leave now?

  
Heaving out a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and walked past a boarded doorway and toward the dark hallway. No, you couldn't leave yet.

  
Before you left the open room, however, a tape recorder caught your eye. It sat on a small shelf beside the huge sign; how could you have missed that?

  
Pressing play, you were thrilled to find that it worked - much like the last one you had found. The voice that spoke through the tape was low and smooth, and despite the bitter tone, it calmed you.

  
"So first, Joey installs this ink machine over our heads. Then it begins to leak. Three times last month, we couldn't even get out of our department because the ink had flooded the stairwell."

  
Yikes... Well, you were definitely lucky that the ink machine wasn't turned on, lest it leak and flood the exit like it had for the employees who worked here.

  
"Joey's solution? An ink pump to drain it periodically. Now I have this ugly pump switch right in my office. People in and out all day."

  
You raised an eyebrow. This man had an office of his own? He would have to be the manager, or something similar. Regular employees don't just get their own office.

  
"Thanks, Joey. Just what I needed, more distractions. These stupid cartoon songs don't write themselves, you know."

  
The tape cut out, and you were left alone in suffocating silence as you processed the man's words.

  
He wrote the songs. He had his own office. There was no doubt in your mind that the voice you just listened to belonged to your uncle. You blinked a few times before turning to make your way down the hallway. Were there any more recordings of him lying around? Did he leave any notes, any other traces of himself before he went missing?

  
A spark ignited in your chest as you moved through the department with newfound determination.

  
You opened the first door on the right, finding an organ set up on the wall opposite of you. You tilted your head slightly in curiosity before approaching the large instrument. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try it out - you played piano before, an organ couldn't be much different, could it?

  
Placing your fingers upon the keys, you gently pressed down and listened to the melody produced from the pipes. You were about to continue on, about to play the next note, but you stopped when you heard a pained voice cry out. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you had just imagined it. You pushed down on a single key experimentally to see if it would happen again. Sure enough, a tormented groan could be heard.

  
Unnerved, you stepped back and decided to check out the other room. Making your way down the hall and opening the door to the right, you walked into a small work space area. There were two desks littered with papers; some were random sheets of music pieces, some were rough sketches of cartoon characters, but most were blank.

  
You sighed once more before leaving the room and making your way to the end of the hall. To the right was a closet, and right in front of you was Sammy's office. You should have been excited; ecstatic, even. But instead, you felt a sinking feeling as you looked through the glass and read the ominous inscription on the wall.

  
_It's time to believe._

  
You felt your shoulders sag as you stared at the inky black writing. Believe in what?

  
Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the door of your uncle's office. You took note of the tape recorder you saw on the wall across fro the door, reminding yourself to listen to it when you left the office.

  
Ignoring the pump switch, you made your way over to his desk. There was a radio sitting on top of it, with a set of blueprints spread across the desk surface. You glanced over it briefly, finding that it was blueprints for the ink machine. You hummed as you examined the images, before rolling the sheet of paper and slipping it into your bag. You could show it to an engineer once you got out of the studio; maybe they could make more sense of it, because it was Greek to you.

  
You stared at the radio for a few moments before turning it on, wondering if it still worked. Once again, the equipment in this studio surprised you as you heard a lighthearted tune play from the speaker of the radio. The upbeat melody of the piano calmed you and soothed your nerves.

  
It didn't last long, however, as the song faded into nothing but static and white noise. Turning it off, you then opted for looking through the drawers of the desk. The drawers were filled to the brim with sheets of music, each of a different song.

  
You stared down in awe, before leafing through the papers and reading over the songs and humming each one to yourself. Every one was brilliant, better than anything you could ever hope to write. The notes formed a beautiful tune, and you couldn't help but sing along with the lyrics scribbled underneath the measures. Even the song titles themselves had a unique charm.

  
_Thinking of You, Sheep Songs, Siren's Serenade, Hellfire Follies, Drawn to Darkness, You Left Me in a Heartbeat..._

  
Some were more intense than others, but still had a certain kick to them. You carefully placed them into your bag, careful not to rip the delicate parchment the music was written on. Your uncle might be gone, but you would make sure that his masterpieces lived on.

  
With nothing else to find in the office, you left the room and went to listen to the tape you had meant to earlier.

  
Before you could hit play, however, you saw a large puddle of ink appear to your left. Strange, that wasn't there before...

  
Suddenly, a black figure erupted from the puddle and crawled toward you. You shrieked, almost losing your grip on your wrench as you readied it to attack the offending monster.

  
Swinging your wrench as the creature lunged at you, you managed to land a hit on its head. The inky being groaned before melting away back into the puddle it came from. You stared at the black bubbling liquid with your wrench raised, prepared to strike should the thing return.

  
After a few moments passed with no signs of the creature returning, you relaxed and played the tape.

  
"So I go to get my dust pan from the closet the other day, and guess what? I can't find my stupid keys. It's like they disappeared into thin air or something."

  
Oh, it's the same guy from earlier. Not Sammy, but the one you listened to when you were on the main floor.

  
"All I can think of is that they must've fallen into one of the garbage cans as I was making my rounds last week. I just hope nobody tells Sammy. Because if he finds out I lost my keys again, I'm outta here!"

  
You smiled slightly as you looked at the closet. So, it was safe to assume that the mystery man was a janitor or caretaker.

  
"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for those." You muttered before walking down the hall. You were tempted to check out the cluttered hallway that you hadn't checked before, but decided against it and went to the end of the hall. Turning left and opening a door, you entered a large room filled with chairs, music stands, and instruments.

  
You grinned at the sight, the familiar feeling of a band room brought a great comfort to you.

  
Eyes landing on the piano across the room, you decided that it couldn't hurt to play a song or two. As long as it doesn't scream, that is.

  
You ran your fingers along the keys in an experimental manner before stopping and listening. There were no groans or cries of pain, much to your delight.

  
Sitting down, you mindlessly let your fingers press the piano's keys as you pondered over which song to play. Your eyes lit up when you thought of a certain song. It was an old one, before your time. But it was one of your favourites.

  
Sitting up straight, you gently played the first few notes of the song before you began to sing along.

  
_"Willow weep for me_

  
_Willow weep for me_

  
_Bend your branches down_

  
_Along the ground and cover me..."_

  
Your voice echoed off the old wooden walls of the recording room, mingling perfectly with the soft tune of the piano. Your fingers slid gracefully along each and every key as you played, seemingly in a world of your own.

  
Closing your eyes, you continued to sing along. You didn't have to look at the piano to play this song, you played it too many times before. You perfected it.

  
But as you played, you remained unaware of the attention you brought to yourself. The soft melody of the old yet familiar song attracted one specific being lurking within the cursed studio.


	3. An Unexpected Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you explored the recording room full of various instruments, you finally become aware of someone watching you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No editing we die like men

Sammy didn't sleep often. He didn't need to, not anymore. His new inky body didn't need the same things that a regular human would normally require to survive. Food, water, rest... no, none of that was necessary. All he needed was ink, and his soul.

  
However, there was the rare occasion when he'd let himself fall unconscious. He'd normally do so simply to pass time when he had little else to do, and let his mind go blank. On an even more rare occasion, he'd be able to remember bits and pieces of his past as his mind replayed the lost memories like an old film.

  
He didn't remember much before the studio - for the longest time, he had believed that he had no life before he started work at the studio. But he was wrong.

  
He faintly remembered a young girl who oddly resembled himself before he fell to the ink machine. Despite the mystery behind her, he felt a strange connection to her; like they had been two halves of a whole.

  
In every memory that would resurface, she was always standing tall in front of him in a protective manner. Despite her dirtied appearance and obvious anger (directed at what, he'd never know), she would always look down at him with a warm smile and offer a hand to help him.

  
Her age fluctuated with each memory. Sometimes she would appear to be a young child, laughing and smiling at him like he had just told her the world's funniest joke. Other times, she was a young woman who would stand by his side defiantly.

  
He knew very, very little of this woman. All he knew was that she had been a huge part of his unknown past, and that they held a bond possibly stronger than even his lord.

  
But you were not that woman. No, you didn't have the same smile nor the same voice. You held yourself in a different manner, yet you were weirdly similar.

  
You were the same, but different.

  
He watched you sing and play the old song that he loved, staring down at you from the balcony. He studied you intently, trying in vain to figure out why you felt so familiar to him. Was it your eyes? Your skin? Your hair? The answer was yes, and no.

  
He kept thinking, kept staring, kept listening. He didn't stop until he finally looked away from you to see the cartoon cutout propped up beside him. It was then that he came to a realisation.

  
It didn't matter who you were to him. His past meant nothing if it meant living his future within the wretched inky confines that was his body. He now knew exactly what you were.

  
You were the perfect sacrifice. A single pure lamb in a flock of tainted sheep. You were the key to his freedom, the key to proving to his lord that he was worthy of being set free.

  
Unfortunately, he would not be able to perform any ritualistic sacrifices. The ink machine was dormant and powerless; he knew very well that any rituals taken place while the ink machine was shut down would simply fall on deaf ears. His lord would not hear his call unless the ink machine was operational.

  
And as much as he'd love to turn on the ink machine himself, he found that he couldn't. His memory was poor, and he couldn't recall how to get it up and running. For now, he could only sit and wait until someone else took it upon themself to fix the strange contraption.

  
But that could take days, weeks even. Surely you would have escaped this cursed studio by then, and even if you didn't, it would be likely that you would eventually succumb to the ink. By then, you would be tainted by the dark puddles.

  
He couldn't let that happen.

  
He needed to keep you here, alive and pure, until the time was right. Under no circumstance would he allow a sheep as rare as you to slip through his grasp and escape.

  
Sammy watched as you finished your song, the lingering melody echoing through the room. You stood from your seat on the piano bench and stretched your arms above your head. You then picked up your wrench, about to turn and leave the recording room, when the tape recording in the corner caught your eye.

  
You approached the small object and crouched down, listening to it intently. Sammy already knew the voice and dialogue of the audio by heart, as he had listened to the recordings over and over when things got too quiet for his liking. His memory may fail him constantly, but the contents of each recording was embedded permanently into his mind.

  
Once the recording cut out, you stood up straight and looked around the room-

  
And immediately locked eyes with him.

 

You stared up at him with wide (colour) eyes, taking a few steps forward. His gaze remained fixed on you, following you with each and every step you took.

  
"Hello...?" You gently called out, waving up to him in an attempt to get a reaction. You were wary, yet curious. Who was that strange person up on the balcony? Were they hostile? They appeared similar to the ink monster you had encountered earlier, except skinnier and lankier. They wore a pair of pants with suspenders - strangely enough, the suspenders didn't seem to rest on the person's shoulders; it was like they were defying gravity.

  
Stranger still was their apparent lack of feet, as well as the battered Bendy mask they wore and their four-fingered hands. Whoever they were, they refused to speak or respond to your attempt at communication. There was no expression to read as they continued to stare blankly at you, silent and unmoving.

  
You remained there for a few moments still, before turning to leave. The moment you took a single step, however, several more inky beasts burst up from black puddles that you hadn't noticed before. There was no more than three at the moment, and each one made a beeline for you.

  
Swinging the heavy wrench, you fended them off and managed to avoid being harmed by a single one. After the initial shock of the sudden encounter, you looked back up at the strange mask-wearing person on the balcony.

  
They were still there, watching you with no sign of concern. You huffed slightly at that, somewhat annoyed at the strange inky being. Just who was this person?

  
You looked around the room once more, ensuring that there were no signs of any more monsters. Instead of monsters, however, you found an empty bacon soup can. At that, an idea formed in your head, albeit a rather childish one.

  
Grabbing the can, you examined it slightly before turning your gaze back up at the masked figure. Setting down the wrench for a moment, you wound up the arm holding the can and launched it up at the inky being.

  
Surprisingly enough, you had been accurate enough to have thrown the empty soup can at the person's masked face.

  
The person stumbled back slightly, alarmed at the sudden assault. Grasping the railing of the balcony to keep their balance, they adjusted their Bendy mask and stared down at you. From the way they posed their body, you could only assume that they were glaring at you, but with that expressionless mask obscuring their face, you couldn't be sure. You simply retrieved your wrench, and left the recording room, ready to continue your search for answers. Unfortunately, there wasn't much more of the music department for you to explore; just the one staircase leading up to what you could guess was the balcony above the recording room and the one cluttered hallway that you had passed by earlier.

  
You paused when you came back around to Sammy's voice recording, staring at it with a solemn expression. For some reason, you felt a sudden sense of sadness and longing, especially when you realised that you would never truly get to meet your dear uncle. Having been missing for roughly thirty years, there was absolutely no hope for his survival. Yes, you could listen to the one recording of his that you had found, and read over the masterpieces that were his composed songs. But you would never be fortunate enough to meet him, to know him.

  
It was something that you had never come to terms with until now.

  
You gently pressed the play button on the recorder once again, listening to your uncle's smooth voice. The sorrow you felt suddenly became overwhelming, and you breathed in a shaky breath as warm tears began to fall down your cheeks.

  
Suddenly, you became aware of the sound of footsteps behind you. Unfortunately, you turned around a second too late as you felt something hard collide with your skull. You collapsed to the ground as a throbbing pain developed where the unknown object hit.

  
Struggling to remain conscious, you strained your neck to turn and look back, finding the same masked inky person from before standing above you. In his hand was a tuning fork, and you could faintly hear them speaking. However, it was difficult to hear through the ringing in your ears and the overlapping dialogue from Sammy's recording.

  
Unable to fight the darkness creeping in from the edges of your vision, you finally succumbed to unconsciousness as the world around you faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Sammy's model has been updated but I'm using his pre-chapter 4 model for a reason so please bear with me


	4. Cornered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up with a splitting headache and a vague sense of impending doom, you once again come face-to-face with the strange inky man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the kind comments! I'm sorry I don't respond, but honestly I really don't know how?? You guys are just so sweet and can't handle it???

The first thing you noticed upon waking up was the buzzing pain in the back of your skull. You groaned at the feeling and slowly blinked your eyes open, finding that you were lying down on a hard and cold wooden floor. Soon, a masculine voice spoke to you from nearby.

  
"Good, you're awake." The mystery man said. His voice was strikingly similar to that of your uncle's, but you brushed it off as your mind playing tricks on you after having been knocked out while listening to his tape.

  
Upon remembering what happened, however, you immediately sat up and looked around frantically. You were currently sitting beside a pentagram drawn in ink, with a toilet and a large switch stationed on the wall to the left. On the right was a desk, and the strange inky man seated on a stool in front of you.

  
"I was worried I might've hit you a little too hard..." He spoke again, his voice still frighteningly similar to your uncle's. He grabbed a bowl from the desk behind him, and handed it to you. You looked down at the bowl's contents for a few moments, finding that it held some warmed bacon soup. Turning your gaze up from the bowl of soup, you stared at the masked man with a suspicious look. He continued to hold it out for you to take, staring back at you with his unwavering and emotionless mask.

  
You sighed, taking the offered bowl of soup and resting it in your lap as you continued to stare up at him in silence. He stared back at you, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze remained trained on you, almost expectantly.

  
Looking down at the dull, warm liquid in the bowl, you hesitantly brought it to your lips and sipped the greasy soup. It was tasteless and contained chunks of bitter meat, but you forced yourself to swallow the bland substance that could hardly be passed off for "food."

  
You grimaced slightly as you swallowed, but managed to keep it down nevertheless. Finally, your head cleared and you calmed down enough to voice one of your many questions.

  
"Who are you?" You asked, looking back up him. He leaned back, his gaze never leaving you.

  
"I don't recall ever telling you that questions were allowed, little lamb." He replied, avoiding your question and standing from his stool. He towered over your seated form in an almost threatening manner and tilted his head slightly as he spoke again. "But I suppose it would be rather rude to not introduce myself... My name is Samuel Lawrence, and I am the prophet of our lord and saviour."

  
"...What?" Was all you could utter in response. This... This inky _thing_ was Sammy Lawrence? This absolute _madman_ was your uncle? If anything, this only caused more questions to form in your mind. How was he still alive? How did he end up like this? What happened when he went missing? What the ever-loving hell _happened_ at this studio?

  
"I understand that you may be confused," He spoke up as your mind reeled, "But all your questions will be answered in good time, my little lamb. After all, we still have plenty of time before we can perform the ritual."

  
"The ritual...?" You muttered in disbelief. Great, your uncle was an insane cultist and had seemingly lost his mind during the thirty years that he had been missing.

  
"Yes, the ritual." He said, kneeling down in front of you. "With your sacrifice, my lord will finally set me free! You should feel honoured, little lamb... Not every creature down here can be deemed a suitable tribute for him."

  
"No, no..." You set the bowl harshly down on the wooden floor and backed away form him until your back hit a wall. You could hardly believe what you were hearing - a sacrifice? You were going to be killed?! "No, this can't be happening! You can't be Sammy, he would _never_ do this!"

  
Sammy- _no,_ the thing in front of you crawled closer and leaned in until his masked face was inches away from yours.

  
"Interesting," He said, tilting his head, "You claim to know who I am, yet I have no recollection of you. Tell me, little lamb, what _would_ Sammy do?"

  
Growling, you pushed the inky creature away and got to your feet, leaning against the wall for support.

  
"I don't know what he'd do, but he definitely wouldn't do _this!_ " You practically yelled, "You aren't my uncle - you _can't_ be my uncle - he's been dead for years!"

  
"An... uncle?" Was all he said before grasping his head with his four-fingered hands. He looked as though he was in pain, before relaxing and standing up. "That's enough talk for now. I have business to attend to elsewhere, but I will return shortly."

  
You watched as he walked away from you and stood in the center of the pentagram drawn on the floor, before melting away into the floorboards and disappearing. You stared at the spot that he had been mere seconds ago before sitting back down on the floor and hugging your knees to your chest.

  
As far as you could tell, there were no open exits to this room. There was a large gate down the short corridor, but it was closed and you couldn't see any way for you to open it.

  
So you sat there, alone with your thoughts as you stared at the pentagram. You were so confused; how could any of this happen? How was this possible? Was that man really your uncle? While he definitely sounded like him, you just couldn't believe that he was the one your mother spoke of so fondly.

  
Sammy Lawrence was level-headed and smart, albeit a tad bit snarky and short-tempered. He was organised and would accept nothing less than perfection, especially when it came to work.

  
At least, that was how your mother described him, and you trusted her to speak truthfully about her little brother. She knew him better than anyone.

  
But what did your captor expect to gain by pretending to be a dead man? Absolutely nothing, really. All of your uncle's possessions went to your mother and your grandparents when the investigation was called off.

  
Besides, he sounded just like he did on the recording you were listening to, and you doubted that anyone was _that_ good at imitating voices.

  
Okay, so, maybe he was your uncle after all. But even then, what could you do? He was holding you captive until who-knows-when, and even when he would let you go, it would be to sacrifice you to whatever god or deity he was worshiping.

  
You were officially backed into a corner with no where to escape to.

  
Sighing, you looked around a bit more. There was very little to this room; just a few shelves and some basses along with the aforementioned pump switch, toilet, desk, and pentagram. However, it was now that you noticed more inky words written on the wall in front of you.

  
_Sing a happy song, whisper a merry tune._

  
_Wait for his arrival, he's coming very soon._

  
Suddenly, you were very aware of the overlapping voices whispering from the pentagram. Turning you gaze down to the demonic circle, you listened carefully in an attempt to make out what they were saying. Unfortunately, the voices were quiet and fleeting. You couldn't decipher a word they said.

  
Now you wished that you had escaped when you had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another short chapter - I was originally gonna make it a lot longer but then figured I'd split it into two parts. The next chapter should be posted sometime during the long weekend ^^


	5. Can I Get an Amen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With nothing else to do, you resort to doing the only thing that can calm you in times of great stress - writing music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up kiddos, because this chapter is one hell of a ride.

To be quite honest, things could have been worse. At least, that's what you told yourself to make you feel better.

  
You told yourself that things weren't all bad. That you were still alive, and as long as you were still breathing, you had a a chance at escaping this cursed studio. Sure, you might be trapped right now, but Sammy would have to let you out eventually; even if it was when he would finally sacrifice you to whatever lord he was worshiping.

  
At that thought, however, you were reminded of what that janitor guy said on the tape you first listened to. About Joey installing pedestals and taking donations to "appease the gods," if you remembered correctly. Perhaps Joey had been the one to found this cult, and somehow convinced your uncle into joining it? Granted, why he would agree to join some freakish cult is a mystery in and of itself; especially having been raised in a catholic society.

  
You sighed as you sat on the stool in front of the desk. Your mind reeled as you struggled to put the pieces together, but things just weren't adding up. Every time you thought you were onto something, another issue surfaced and contradicted your theory.

  
You groaned and rested your head on the desk in front of you, listening to the faint whispering of the inky pentagram beside you. Your thoughts swarmed as you struggled to make out the hushed words being said, but to no avail.

  
With nothing else to do, you decided to resort to doing what you do best: writing music. With the massive amount of ink and numerous scattered pieces of blank paper, that seemed like one of the only things you could do at the moment.

  
Grabbing a random ink pen and dipping it in a puddle of ink, you began drawing a music staff on a sheet of paper that had previously been sitting on the desk. You were best at playing piano, so that was the instrument you'd be writing for.

  
Once you got started, you fell into a trance and blocked out your surroundings. For a moment, it was like you were no longer trapped in an old abandoned animation studio. It was just you in your own little world, humming the notes to yourself as you wrote them down on the parchment provided.

  
You weren't sure how much time had passed by the time you were finally finished; then again, it couldn't have been too long as Sammy still hadn't returned. However, you had been so focused that you had failed to notice the bloated ink creature that had appeared up from the toilet beside the desk. You weren't sure how long it had been there, but when you finally realised that it was there, you were far less afraid than you felt you should have been. Then again, it hadn't made any move to attack you.

  
_Yet._

  
For a while, you just stared at it, unsure of what to think. The swollen ink creature wore a bowler hat, making it stand out from the ones that had attacked you earlier.

  
Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silence between the two of you, you finally decided to speak up.

  
"Um... Hello?" You said, leaning forward. The inky being perked it's head up at you, staring at you for a few seconds before disappearing back into the toilet.

  
You scrunched up your nose as you watched the creature sink down into the toilet, before turning your attention back to your mostly-finished work. It was a short song, and could definitely use another page to complete it. Of course, you still had yet to name the song. So, instead of getting another page ready and scribbling down some measures, you decided to title your work and leave it at that. Maybe you'd pick it up again later, but for now, you were burned out and tired.

  
Maybe it was the influence of all the religious and cultish undertones the studio held. Maybe it was from your tired brain trying to piece together the happenings at this studio. You weren't quite sure why exactly you picked this one specific word for the title of your (admittedly) less-than-average song.

  
Nevertheless, you wrote down the four letter word on the top of the page before sitting up and admiring your work. It wasn't bad, considering how much you did in what must have been roughly an hour or two. Maybe three.

  
As you were about to write in a few more last-minute touches, you heard a bubbling sound from beside you. Looking down at the pentagram, you watched as a puddle of thick ink bubbled and boiled viciously.

  
Immediately becoming unnerved, you gripped the pen in your hand to use as a makeshift weapon as you no longer had your wrench with you (or any other weapon, for that matter). You continued to stare at the puddle, waiting for an ink monster to appear from it.

  
Suddenly, two hands shot out of the puddle, clawing at the surrounding floorboards to pull themselves out of the thick puddle of ink. Soon, however, the masked head of the creature dragged itself up - revealing that it was no ordinary ink monster, and was instead the mad cultist that was your uncle.

  
You sighed in relief as you watched him stand and turn to you. Before either of you said a word, Sammy turned his obscured gaze to the sheet of music on the desk in front of you. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed the piece, reading over the notes in what you could only guess was curiosity.

  
"...I didn't know you wrote music." He murmured, mostly to himself.

  
"Yeah, and I didn't know that my uncle was still alive." You retorted. That, however, seemed to tip him off as he clenched the sheet of music tight in his four-fingered hand. He said nothing of it, though, and simply placed the paper back down harshly on the desk. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat before you spoke again, "So... when is this ritual thing supposed to happen?"

  
As unsettling as it would be to hear about the details of your own sacrifice, the exact time would be a good thing to know. It would allow you to figure out just how long you had to escape this place.

  
"When the ink machine is active." Sammy answered, "Only then will he be able to hear my call."

  
Alright, that left you little to work with, but it was something. Moving on...

  
"Who... Who exactly are you sacrificing me to?" You asked, hoping to get more answers from him.

  
"Who...? Oh, my dear little lamb..." Sammy chuckled, and leaned down so you were face-to-face. "Why, the ink demon, of course."

  
Your brows furrowed in confusion, staring into the blank eyes of his Bendy mask before everything clicked into place.

  
"You mean... Bendy?" You asked incredulously, "But he's just a cartoon-"

  
Cutting you off, Sammy growled and slammed his fist into the wall beside your head, effectively frightening you into silence.

  
"He is far more than just a cartoon, little lamb." He spoke in a low, dangerous tone, "He is the most _perfect_ being in all of creation, and only _he_ can set us free."

  
The two of you remained still and silent, before the ground began to rumble. That seemed to catch Sammy off-guard as he removed his hand from the wall and stood up straight, looking up and around the area in confusion. Soon, the rumbling stopped, and you could just hear the faint sound of running machinery and working pipes.

  
"The ink machine..." The prophet muttered in disbelief. At those words, you felt your heart sink. If the ink machine was operational, then that meant...

  
"This is too soon, I'm not quite ready..." Sammy said in a hurried and somewhat panicked tone. "Preparations must be made. I will return soon, little lamb."

  
With that, he stepped back and disappeared into the pentagram once more, leaving you alone in the room with nothing but your racing heartbeat and anxious thoughts. You had hoped that you would have more time; maybe a few days to think of an escape plan, but now you only had mere minutes until he returned and you were due to be sacrificed to a cartoon demon.

  
The ink pen that you had been holding this entire time fell to the ground. Tears welled up in your eyes as each second ticked by, bringing you closer and closer to your inevitable doom.

  
This was it. You were going to be killed, by your own uncle. By the same man that had inspired you to compose songs and get into the music industry. By the same man who led you here in the first place.

  
You silently prayed to whatever god or higher power that was listening to give you more time. To help you escape. Deep down, you knew that praying would do nothing in this inky hell of a studio, but right now it was all you could do as you awaited Sammy's return.

  
Your tearful gaze turned to the piece of paper that you had been enthusiastically scribbling on earlier, the title of the song seemingly mocking you.

  
_Amen_

  
In a fit of fear and anger, you grabbed the paper and crumpled it up before throwing it into the waste basket nearby. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and paced around the room, forcing your mind to think of something, of anything, to get you out of there.

  
_Think, think, think._

  
Once again, time lost meaning to you as you wracked your tired mind for ideas. You kept pacing, kept thinking. It could have been hours, or only minutes for all you knew.

  
Once you heard the rumbling of the gate nearby, you came to a sudden halt. Staring at the raising gate, you expected to see Sammy there, waiting for you to follow him and accept your fate as the sacrificial lamb.

  
But it wasn't Sammy standing there waiting for you. No, it was someone you didn't recognise and, more importantly, someone human. You didn't have a clue as to who this man was or why he was here, but you had never been more happy to see someone in your entire life.

  
The stranger walked toward you cautiously, armed with an axe and ink soaking his pant legs. He stared at you skeptically before he spoke in a low but calm voice.

  
"Hello?" He said, "Are... Are you okay?"

  
Tears formed in your eyes once more as you nodded, and wide smile broke across your face.

  
"Y-yeah, yeah," Your voice cracked as you rubbed your eyes, "I am now."

  
You both stared at each other in silence, before the unknown man spoke first.

  
"Uh, sorry, I just..." The man sputtered, "Who are you? And... Why are you here?"

  
"I'm (Y/N)." You answered, "As for why I'm here, well... It's a bit of a long story."

  
"Well, I'm Henry." The man - Henry, replied, "And I suppose it's a long story on my part, too."

  
Henry offered a kind smile, holding a hand out for you to shake. You took it in your own and shook hands before suddenly perking up.

  
"Henry?" You said, your mind tracing back to the punch-card that had been in the clock-in on the main floor. "As in, the animator who used to work here?"

  
Henry raised his eyebrows, obviously not expecting that kind of response from a stranger he just met in a run-down studio.

  
"Yeah, I worked here around thirty years ago. How did you know?"

  
"Well, my uncle used to work here, too." Was all you said, before looking around. "So... is there any chance you could help me get out of here?"

  
"Oh, of course. The exit is just by the other room, but the stairwell is flooded." Henry said. Upon seeing your distraught expression, he quickly added, "But don't worry. All we gotta do is get to the switch in the director's office."

  
He then walked past you, and turned the valve on the wall beside the pentagram.

  
"Unfortunately, even that's not too easy. A pipe burst and is blocking the door to the office." Henry added, turning to you. "But there should be another valve nearby. I can go look for it, and you can wait by the exit. It shouldn't take too long."

  
"Okay," You nodded, "Thanks."

  
The two of you then turned to leave the room. You were about halfway down the corridor when a Bendy cutout appeared in the doorway, before disappearing back behind the wall. You stopped walking at that, suddenly feeling uneasy. Henry seemed to notice, and offered you a reassuring smile as he waited for you to continue walking.

  
You were somewhat concerned as to why he seemed unfazed by a cutout moving on its own - then again, you were in an abandoned studio where your thought-to-be-deceased uncle was, in fact, alive, and worshiping a cartoon demon; not to mention the abundance of ink creatures. You supposed there were weirder things to be worried about in this place.

  
"Hey, who's that?" Henry spoke up, looking up as you two entered the recording room. You followed his gaze and froze when you saw the familiar sight of Sammy Lawrence watching over you from the balcony.

  
"We should go." You said, not bothering to answer the older man's question and making a beeline for the door. Before you could take more than two steps, several inky abominations appeared from seemingly nowhere, and advanced toward you.

  
You nearly screamed as you backed away from the creatures, Henry stepping forward between you and the beasts made of living ink. He swung his axe at the offending monsters, striking each one down with heavy blows until all had melted back into nothing but dark inky puddles.

  
You were beginning to have a major sense of deja-vu.

  
Once the creatures were taken care of, Henry turned and looked back at you with a concerned expression. You simply took a deep breath and sighed, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

  
Stepping forward once more, you followed Henry out of the recording studio. Before either of you could go far, though, you both stopped at the hallway leading toward Sammy's office.

  
"Okay," Henry said, "I'll go check the infirmary, it's the only place I haven't checked yet. You go stay by the exit."

  
You silently nodded, looking around absentmindedly. You gaze landed on the tape recording of Sammy, before lowering down to see the wrench you had once possessed before getting knocked unconscious.

  
Henry had already turned and walked down the hall as you grabbed the wrench and walked over to the stairway leading to the exit. Sure enough, it was flooded with ink.

  
You sighed in irritation, leaning back against the wall across from a power switch and keeping an eye out for any ink monsters or Sammy. You weren't exactly too keen on getting knocked out by him a second time.

  
So you waited. You watched vigilantly and listened to the ambiance of the music department. If you listened carefully, you could just make out what you hoped was Henry's footsteps down in the infirmary.

  
You grew somewhat restless, but fought the urge to wander. The risk of getting found by Sammy was too high for you to be taking chances, so the most "wandering" you did was moving from leaning on one wall to leaning on the other one across from you.

  
Faintly, you heard footsteps walk through the corridor to Sammy's office, and the sound of a door opening soon followed. After a few seconds, you watched as the ink slowly drained until there was nothing but a small puddle left. As tempting as it was to just go down the stairs and leave immediately, you decided to wait for Henry so that you could leave together.

  
You smiled as you heard his footsteps sound down the hall. Finally, after everything that happened, you could finally leave and go home.

  
Your warm thoughts of home were interrupted, however, when you heard a loud _"CLANG!"_

  
Carefully, you peeked around the corner to see Henry collapse to the floor with none other than Sammy Lawrence standing above him menacingly, holding a metal dustpan.

  
"Sheep sheep sheep, it's time for sleep..." You heard him say as Henry fell limp.

  
Before Sammy could catch sight of you, you ducked back behind the doorway and pressed yourself up against the wall. You could hear him coming closer, dragging Henry's body along with him. You held your breath and kept your wrench at the ready as you watched Sammy walk by the doorway, and disappeared into what you remembered to be the pool table room.

  
Now you were faced with another decision.

  
You could leave this place and never look back, or go help the kind man who saved your life.

  
You fought back a frustrated groan as you stepped away from the stairs leading to your freedom, and quietly followed Sammy instead; knowing that you would likely come to regret this decision.


	6. The Ink Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Sammy and helping Henry, you make your way through the studio; meeting a few familiar faces on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made sure to make this one really long to make up for how long it took. There's a lot of new info, including some background on the reader, but overall I'm really proud of how this came out! Thank you all for your patience and understanding!
> 
> (TW: Mention/description of war, slight eye gore)

Gripping your wrench tightly, you silently followed Sammy past the pool table and into the hallway you had initially entered the music department from. You made sure you remained at least ten feet away from Sammy at all times, and you would occasionally duck behind corners or furniture if you ever felt like he'd turn around. He never did, but you knew you had to be careful - especially now that he possessed Henry's fire axe.

  
Entering one of the doorways in the hall, you watched as he continued to drag Henry's unconscious body through the newly-accessible room and through another doorway.

  
Creeping into the room, you looked around to find a few cellos and basses - along with a desk placed right beside the doorway that Sammy had just walked through. There was a microphone on the desk, with a wire leading into the wall.

  
Faintly, you could hear Sammy shuffle around and talk from the other room, and concluded that he had reached his destination. As much as you wanted to peek your head through the doorway and see what he was doing, you didn't want to risk being caught; especially if he still had Henry's axe on hand. Instead, you knelt down and crawled under the desk, hoping to remain hidden and hopefully gain an advantage with a surprise attack.

  
Now completely hidden, you suppressed a sigh and listened carefully to hear bits and pieces of what Sammy was saying.

  
"There we go... We wouldn't want out sheep roaming away... we wouldn't."

  
You could barely make out his words from your position, but from what you could hear, you concluded that he had deemed Henry to be a suitable "substitute" for you. Sammy was going through with the ritualistic sacrifice to Bendy with Henry as his offering.

  
You wanted to jump out of your spot and rush at him. You wanted to get up and do something to help Henry, but as long as Sammy had that axe, you couldn't possibly stand a chance against him. If you took one hit from that axe, you would be done for.

  
You had to be smart about this.

  
Straining your hearing once more, you managed to make out a few more fragments of his monologue.

  
"...Believers must honour... Notice me... Lord is calling... Time of sacrifice is at hand... be free..."

  
The sound of banging pipes from above caught your attention, causing you to flinch slightly. You stared up at the desk you were hidden under, as if you could see through it to find what was making those noises. You held your wrench close in one hand as the other rested on your bag. You closed your eyes for a few moments to calm the anxiety bubbling in your chest, blocking out any noise in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

  
However, you soon became aware of the sound of someone whistling. It was an upbeat tune, something someone would whistle while going about their everyday work. Yet there was something strangely... _sinister_ about it.

  
Before you could do anything else, you heard the door beside the desk you were hiding under close and footsteps sound on the wooden floor. Two feetless ink-stained pant legs became visible from your hiding spot as Sammy approached the desk. Despite being in the perfect position to attack him, you were hesitant. You weren't sure why, but you were afraid of hurting him. Despite everything he had been planning to do to you and what he was doing to Henry, you weren't sure if you could bring yourself to harm him.

  
Beneath all that ink, he was still your family. He was still your music-loving uncle.

  
"Sheep sheep sheep, it's time for sleep..." Sammy's voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you continued to stare at his legs, debating on whether or not you should follow through with your plan of attack.

  
"Rest your head, it's time for bed. In the morning, you may wake. Or in the morning, you'll be dead."

  
Having finally summoned up your resolve, you shifted slightly to allow for better movement so you had a better angle. Before you could swing your wrench however, the ground began to rumble beneath your feet, causing you to lose your balance and lose your chance at attacking.

  
"Hear me, Bendy! Arise from the darkness! Arise and claim my offering!" Sammy shouted with conviction as the rumbling slowly ceased. "Free me, I beg you! I summon you, ink demon! Show your face, and take this tender sheep!"

  
Suddenly, everything became coated in a thick layer of inky tendrils. You were suddenly very aware of your heartbeat, and you could hear something let out a loud hiss as a pair of thin inky feet slowly appeared in your line of sight from underneath the desk.

  
"No, my lord, stay back!" Sammy stumbled back into the wall as the inky creature drew closer in what you could only describe as a threatening manner. Was that thing Bendy...?

  
"I am your prophet!" Sammy continued, his voice giving away his fear.

  
For reasons unknown even to you, you swallowed your own fear and sense of self-preservation and launched yourself out of your hiding spot at the pair of scrawny ink-covered legs. You effectively knocked over the dark figure as you readied your wrench and brought it down against it's thin body.

  
You heard a loud, inhuman, ear-splitting screech as a clawed hand came down on your face. Unable to react in time, the set of black claws raked down the left side of your face and across your eye. Screaming in pain, you scrambled back away from the creature and covered your injured eye with your free hand.

  
The inky figure stood up and looked down at you menacingly. At this angle, you could make out its full appearance.

  
This thing only barely resembled the Bendy you knew from the cartoons. It was tall and skeletal, with ink coating every inch of it's body and dripping down its face - the only facial feature that was visible was a wide, sinister grin.

  
You had never been more afraid of anything in your entire life.

  
The beastly Bendy stepped toward you, raising its clawed hand to land a final blow and send you to the afterlife. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, you gripped you wrench and swung hard at the monster's ankles, landing a heavy blow. Bendy let out another blood-curdling screech, before stumbling back and disappearing into a dark void in the wall.

  
The ink that covered the area faded away, and the adrenaline that coursed through your veins melted away with it.

  
You breathed heavily as you kept your injured eye covered with your hand, and turned to look at Sammy with your good eye.

  
He was on his knees, looking at you with his masked face. Both of you kept quiet, staring at each other in silence until Sammy finally spoke.

  
"You... attacked my lord." He murmured in a low tone, "You wretched little lamb- How could you do that to him?! He was going to-"

  
"He was gonna kill you, Sammy." You stated bluntly, interrupting him before slowly getting to your feet. Your knees shook and your body trembled, but you managed to remain standing. "Look, I don't know everything that happened here, but whatever that thing is, it's no lord or deity worth worshiping."

  
Sammy turned his gaze from you down to the floor in front of him, seemingly contemplating your words.

  
"No, it was my fault. There has to be a reason- I must have done something wrong." He insisted. "It was no fault of his own. I gave him an improper sacrifice, _I_   wronged him."

  
You sighed in irritation before looking around warily. You didn't want to stay in this place, lest the ink demon return to finish its job. But, for some reason, you didn't want to leave without Sammy.

  
Without your uncle.

  
"Look, as much as I'd love to sit here with you," You said, hissing slightly at the pain from your left eye, "I'd much prefer it if we get Henry and get outta here."

  
At those words, Sammy perked up. Standing to his feet(?) and leaning on the desk, he held his head with one hand.

  
"Henry...?" He muttered, "That name... That... Face..."

  
Before either of you could say anything else, the sound of pipes banging above caught your attention. Sammy suddenly keeled over, gripping his head with both hands and groaning out as if he were in pain. You took a step back in alarm as you watched him writhe, only to collapse onto the ground, unconscious.

  
You sighed softly, unsure of what to do. Unfortunately, the clanging of pipes above grew louder and louder, and you only had so much time to stop and think.

  
So you shoved your wrench into your bag and knelt beside your uncle's limp, unconscious body. It took an immense amount of effort to lift him into a suitable position to pick him up from - and the liquid ink dripping from his body only made it more difficult for you to get a proper grip on him. Nevertheless, you managed to sling his left arm over your shoulder and grasp him firmly around the waist with your right arm.

  
Keeping your injured eye closed to prevent it from getting any worse, you utilised your left arm to open the door and get to Henry before-

  
"What...?" Opening the door, you found that Henry was nowhere to be seen. Had he been taken by Bendy...?

  
From the looks of the heap of rope on the ground beneath a wooden pillar and the open gate, however, you silently hoped that he had escaped. Adjusting your hold on Sammy briefly, you slowly made your way through the open gate and through the cluttered hallway.

  
As you walked, you soon found a small area to your right. It was tight and cramped, but there was a chain link wall that revealed several chains moving vertically in a strange shaft. As much as you wanted to stop and stare, you reminded yourself of your objective and continued onward, hauling your uncle's body along with you.

  
It took only a few steps for you to find a broken axe on the ground - Henry's axe. So, not only was he alone, but he was also unarmed and vulnerable. You sent a silent prayer to whatever higher power there was that he was alright, and that he'd be alive when you found him.

  
Soon, you came across a flooded room with a door on the other side. You considered trekking across the ink-flooded room, but decided against it and turned to the open hallway to your left.

  
Frankly, you weren't exactly sure where you were going at this point. You simply wandered down the maze-like corridor with Sammy in tow, hoping that Henry was around the next corner. Unfortunately, you weren't so lucky as you eventually came upon a door. If you were quiet, however, you could faintly hear footsteps on the other side.

  
With a spark of hope, you adjusted your grasp on Sammy once more and pounded against the door with your left hand.

  
"Hey, Henry! It's me, (Y/N)!" You shouted, hoping that he'd answer. "Open the door, please!"

  
As you pounded on the door, however, you couldn't help but notice the amount of black ink coating your hand. Strange, you expected it to be covered in at least a bit of blood from the scratch on your eye, not just ink...

  
Before you could think too much about it, you heard the door unlock and open to reveal the one you had been searching for - along with a familiar cartoon wolf standing not far behind him. Henry looked around behind you, presumably checking if the ink demon was around before his gaze halted upon looking at Sammy.

  
Sammy showed no signs of consciousness, remaining limp and heavy in your grip.

  
Before any of you could say anything, however, you heard a familiar hiss as the corridor behind you became coated in inky tendrils. Henry wasted no time in grabbing the two of you and pulling you into the room before slamming the door shut and pulling a board down to thoroughly lock it.

  
After you settled down, the cartoon wolf walked away into an open doorway opposite of where you currently stood. He stopped and looked back at you three, as if he was waiting for you to follow.

  
"I'm sure we both have a lot of questions," Henry said, glancing at Sammy as he spoke to you. "But we need to get to a safer place, right here isn't a good spot."

  
You nodded, feeling somewhat drained as you walked toward the living toon and following him through the halls. Before you could go far, though, you felt another arm on top of yours grasp Sammy's waist, and he felt unexpectedly... lighter.

  
Looking over, you saw Henry sling Sammy's other arm around his own shoulders and help you carry him as you followed Boris. You quietly thanked him before focusing on the path ahead.

  
However, despite how sneaky Henry thought he was, you could see him stare at you from the corner of your vision. You could feel your face heat up slightly as you tried to focus on the task at hand, but in all honesty, it was rather distracting.

  
"A picture would last longer, you know." You said casually, turning your one-eyed gaze to the older man and smiling softly to make light of the situation. Henry's face flushed in response to being caught, and he looked away.

  
"Sorry," He apologised, "You just... remind me of someone I knew, is all."

  
"Really?" You raised your eyebrows slightly, your interest piqued. "Do you mind if I ask... who I remind you of?"

  
"Well..." Henry started, adjusting his hold on Sammy as the two of you continued down the winding corridor. "He was a good man; I fought with him in Europe back in '41."

  
"You fought in the war?" You said, unable to hide the surprise evident on your face.

  
"Yeah. His name was Sgt. (L/N), and he's the reason I'm still alive."

  
Upon hearing Henry speak your last name, you nearly dropped Sammy in shock as you realised who he was talking about.

  
"That's my dad!" You exclaimed, "Sgt. (L/N) was my father- you knew him?"

  
"Yeah, he was a good friend." Henry said slowly, smiling as he met your gaze. "He saved my ass on several occasions."

  
You simply smiled as you continued on, processing the new information you were given.

  
Your father had been drafted into the war when you were still young - you were no older than three years old at the time. According to your mother, he was a charming man with a good sense of humour. She said that he had promised that he'd return for her and for you.

  
But he never came back.

  
"Do you... know how he died?" You asked hesitantly. Henry remained silent for a few moments at your question, turning his gaze down to the floorboards instead.

  
"Yeah..." Henry finally answered, "I was there when he died; I watched him fall with my own two eyes."

  
You kept quiet as you looked away, watching Boris and making sure to keep up with him through the winding corridors of the studio. Henry let out a heavy sigh before he continued.

  
"It was me and many others, including your father." Henry said, "We were in the trenches, and the Germans were rushing in from no man's land. They all got gunned down pretty quick, but... I guess one of them got close enough to throw a grenade."

  
You raised your eyebrows as you watched Henry from the corner of your vision. There was a melancholic look in his eyes as he thought back to that dark time.

  
"None of us saw it, we weren't expecting it. (L/N) was the only one who did, and he..." Henry paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "He threw himself onto the grenade to shield us from the blast."

  
Both you and Henry fell silent as you approached a large steel door. Boris opened the door and led you inside, revealing a relatively comfortable safehouse. There was a stove and a table with a few chairs to the left, and a shelf full of miscellaneous items beside a hallway.

  
You and Henry approached one of the chairs placed by the table and gently sat Sammy down in it. Before you could stand, however, you felt your knees buckle beneath you as your injured eye burned with an intense pain. Your hand shot up to cover it in a vain attempt to soothe the burning ache. You felt a hand on your shoulder and Henry's voice, but you couldn't make out the words he said; it was like cotton was stuffed in your ears as the pain intensified tenfold and surged throughout your body like electricity.

  
Soon, the pain faded and your hearing slowly returned. You panted heavily as you looked up at Henry blearily, who was crouched in front of you and staring down at you with concern.

  
"Are you okay?" He asked firmly, staring at you intently before turning his attention to your injured eye.

  
The hand covering your left eye felt extremely wet, as if you had submerged it into one of the many ink puddles in the studio. Henry took your wrist gently, and slowly pulled your hand away. You whimpered slightly at the feeling - the liquid was gooey and stuck to your face and palm like glue.

  
Once your hand was lowered, Henry brought his other hand up and wiped away some of the liquid on your face. His brows furrowed as he spoke.

  
"Can you open your eye?" He asked.

  
In response, you managed to open your eye. Surprisingly, it wasn't painful. In fact, it felt... normal.

  
The same couldn't be said for your sight, however. Everything looked... strange. Closing your good eye, you found that there was a high contrast in the colour of your vision, like there was a strange filter over it.

  
Henry's expression upon seeing your injured eye didn't help matters either. His eyes widened in what you could only describe as horror, and his face grew pale.

  
"What's wrong...?" You asked, tilting your head slightly. Before Henry could respond, another voice spoke up, startling both of you.

  
"You've been marked by the ink demon." Sammy said from his seat behind you. Looking back, you saw that he was sitting up straight and staring down at you with his masked gaze. You opened your good eye and stared up at him, speechless.

  
"Marked...?" Henry asked.

  
"Wait, I don't... I don't get it." You said, standing up and leaning on the table as your legs trembled beneath you. "Henry, what's wrong?"

  
"Go look in a mirror," Sammy spoke again, "Then you'll understand."

  
His ominous words did nothing to help calm you. If anything, they only caused your anxiety to spike as you looked to Boris.

  
The cartoon wolf had been standing in the middle in the room the entire time, watching you and Henry. Upon noticing that your attention was drawn to him, he turned and walked down the hallway beside the shelves.

  
Closing and covering your left eye once again, you followed Boris down the hall and into a bathroom. The floor was flooded with inky water, but you hardly cared as you entered and turned to the mirrors above the sinks and stared at your reflection.

  
Ink dripped down the left side of your face and coated your hand. Pulling your hand away from your face, you merely stared in horror at the black claw marks oozing out dark ink instead of blood.

  
Turning on on of the taps, you cupped your hands underneath the stream of cold water and splashed it on your face. Maybe you were just seeing things - you couldn't be bleeding ink of all things, that just wasn't natural.

  
Then again, nothing in this studio was anywhere near natural.

  
Turning off the tap and looking back up at the mirror, you continued to stare at your reflection with only your right eye open. With the excess ink rinsed off, all that remained were the inky black claw marks over your eye.

  
Taking a deep breath, you opened your other eye.

  
For a moment, you couldn't breathe as you stared at the mirror in astonishment. Your entire eye was a bright gold colour and glowed softly in the dim light of the bathroom. Your hands shook as you gently traced your fingers across the claw marks; your exhausted mind was reeling as you tried relentlessly to process what was happening.

  
You stood frozen in front of the mirror, unable to think. The only thing you could think of doing was closing your right eye, though you weren't sure why. You just did.

  
After a few moments, a shadow in the shape of the ink demon appeared behind your reflection. You could only stare in shock and terror as the shadowy figure placed a gloved four-fingered hand on your left shoulder.

  
An inky black tear fell down your glowing eye. You felt as though you couldn't move or speak, so you remained a still as a statue as he raised his clawed hand and covered your right eye. He tilted his head down slightly, and within a few moments, you could hear him speak. His voice was raspy and layered, like there were several other voices whispering with him as he spoke.

  
_You cannot escape, my little lamb..._

  
"(Y/N)?"

  
Henry's voice startled you, causing you to jump slightly. The shadow disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if it were never there. You opened your right eye and looked to Henry, who stood in the doorway.

  
"Are you alright?" He asked in a gentle tone.

  
Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, and convinced yourself that what had happened with the shadow wasn't real. This studio was crazy, you must have simply imagined it. A stress-induced hallucination, probably.

  
"Yeah, I'm fine." You managed out, wiping away the inky tear on your cheek. "I'm just tired... A lot is happening."

  
"Well then, we'd better get some sleep." Henry smiled a knowing smile, "I'm sure it's been a long day for both of us. Boris has a place where we can rest up."

  
"What about Sammy?" You asked. Henry sighed, rubbing the back on his neck as he averted his gaze.

  
"He's been... surprisingly passive." He said, "But Boris'll keep an eye on him for us."

  
Before you could speak, a yawn interrupted you as you made your way over to Henry and out of the flooded bathroom. Your shoes and socks were soaked, but at this point, you were too tired to care.

  
Henry walked slowly beside you as he escorted you down the hall to another room. Inside, there was a hammock strung up in front of a shelf and above a chest. To the left was a one-person cot, already set up.

  
"I'll take the cot," Henry said, looking at you. "If that's okay."

  
"Yeah, it's fine." You responded, "I still... have a lot of questions, though."

  
"So do I," Henry said, sitting down on his cot, "But those can wait until tomorrow, okay?"

  
"Okay..." You muttered, toeing off your shoes and removing your soaked socks. Climbing into the hammock, you sighed softly as you finally let yourself relax. Your left eye still stung, but it wasn't enough to hurt you or bother you.

  
"Goodnight, Henry." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest.

  
"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably be posted within a week or two. As much as I'd love to work on it and have it posted by this weekend, finals are coming up and I haven't been doing too well in my classes;;


	7. Dreams Come True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know the weird "filter" Henry sees in-game when he has those flashbacks? Yeah, that's what it looks like with the reader's left eye now in case anyone was confused.
> 
> (TW: Strangling/Suffocation)

Upon opening your eyes, you were surprised to find yourself lying in your bed at home, and not in the hammock that you remembered resting in at the studio. Sitting up, you looked around with both eyes open, pleased to find that your vision was normal and that there was no strange filter in your left eye. You were definitely in your room, and it was exactly how you remembered leaving it before you left to investigate Joey Drew Studios.

  
It was all just a bad dream.

  
Sighing in content, you swung your legs over the side of your bed and stretched before standing to your feet. Running a hand through your messy hair, you made a mental note to clean yourself up a bit after breakfast.

  
Walking out of your room, you entered the small kitchen of your apartment and began prepping a light meal. You figured that some toast would keep you satisfied until lunch, grabbing two slices and popping them into the toaster as you looked around for some butter and jam. Opening the fridge door, you found that your jar of jam was near empty, and you made another mental note to grab some when you went grocery shopping later. Hell, maybe you should go shopping today. It was one of your rare days off from work, so you should take advantage of it and do whatever housework that needed to be done.

  
Hearing the toaster pop, you retrieved the two slices and spread the butter and jam on each piece before pouring yourself a glass of water and bringing your meal to the small four-person table. Sitting down and taking a bite of your food, you absentmindedly looked out the window at the city scene outside. It was a beautiful sunny day, it would be a waste to spend it holed up inside.

  
You sighed softly, relaxing your shoulders as you replayed the events of your dream in your head. It had been strangely realistic, from the ache in your head from getting knocked out by Sammy to the stinging pain of getting your eye scratched by the horrific demon. Shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts, you shrugged it off as a creation of your overactive imagination.

  
Upon finishing your breakfast and downing your glass of water, you placed your dishes in the sink to wash later, and retreated to the bathroom. Grabbing your hair comb, you ran it through the knots and tangles until you deemed it neat enough. Putting the comb down beside the sink, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and stared into your tired (colour) eyes.

  
Turning your gaze down, you turned on the tap and splashed warm water on your face to freshen up. Turning off the tap, you blindly grabbed a face towel, dabbing your skin until your face was dry before looking back up at your reflection.

  
You froze at the sight of black claw marks running across your left eye, _exactly_ like the ones Bendy gave you in your dream. Squeezing your eyes shut, you violently rubbed your face with the towel once more in hopes that it would wipe away the inky scratches. Your breathing was shaky and rushed as your mind panicked.

  
_No, it was just a dream. You're at home, you're fine._

  
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you slowly lowered the towel and looked up into the mirror once more.

  
Sighing in relief, you were pleased to find that the inky black scratches were gone. They were simply a product of your overactive imagination, just like your dream.

  
Turning away from the mirror, you were about to return to your room to get dressed for the day, but the sound of knocking on your apartment door stopped you.

  
"(Y/N)? Are you home?"

  
You were surprised when you heard your mother's voice speak up through the door, but it was a pleasant surprise. You smiled to yourself as you turned around to open the door and greet her. She was just the person you needed to see right now, more than anyone else.

  
Ignoring the fact that you were still in your night clothes, you opened the door with a smile.

  
"Mom! It's so good to see-"

  
Your words caught in your throat as your eyes widened at the scene in front of you. The person standing before you was not your mother, but was instead the seven-foot-tall ink demon you had encountered at the studio. The hallway behind him was coated in black ink, and looked like it had been taken right out of the studio from your dream.

  
Acting fast, you immediately went to close and lock the door, but the ink demon was fast enough to push back before you could shut it completely. Struggling, you shoved your entire body against the door to fight the monster's attempt to enter, only for it all to be in vain as he pushed back with enough strength to send you stumbling backwards.

  
Thinking quickly, you scrambled to get to your kitchen to grab a knife from the set you kept on the counter top. You could feel the ink demon on your heels as you reached for the handle of the large knife, only for a clawed hand to grip your neck and an immense weight to send you falling to the ground.

  
You let out a strangled scream as the ink demon tightened his grip around your neck, his Cheshire grin seemingly growing wider. Your hands came up in a vain attempt to pull his hand away and to get him off, but it was all fruitless as your vision blurred and darkened at the edges. Soon, you could see nothing but inky blackness.

 

 

Eyes flying open, you gasped for breath and sat up so fast you almost fell out of your hammock. The first thing you noticed was the strange filter in the vision of your left eye. The next thing you noticed was your surroundings, as you found yourself in Boris' Safehouse within the studio. Tears welled up in your eyes, only for you to wipe them away in frustration before slipping out of the hammock quietly. Looking to your right, you found that Henry was still sound asleep in his cot.

  
Not wanting to wake him, you slowly slid on your socks and shoes. They were still rather damp, but you could hardly bring yourself to care. Wet socks were the least of your problems at the moment.

  
Faintly, you could here the sound of music in the other room. You glanced at your bag for a moment, debating on whether to grab it or not. You decided not to, as you didn't plan on leaving the safehouse anytime soon - at least not until Henry woke up.

  
Closing your left eye to block out the strange filter, you silently walked down the hall into the main room to find Sammy and Boris sitting at the table. Neither of the inky beings said a word as Boris nodded his head along to the tune of the music playing, Sammy staring intently at the cartoon wolf before turning his gaze to you. He seemed to notice your lingering distress, however.

  
"Is there something wrong, little lamb?" He asked.

  
"First of all, no, I'm fine." You sighed, "Second of all, don't call me that. I have a name for a reason."

  
"In that case, would you be so kind as to tell me your name?"

  
At that, you felt your cheeks burn slightly when you realised that you had, in fact, never told him your name.

  
"It's (Y/N)." You answered, pulling up a chair so you could sit at the table with them. Upon siting down, you noticed a deck of cards on the table. You looked at Boris, assuming that they belonged to him. The cartoon wolf seemed to understand your wordless request, and pushed the deck towards you, inviting you to take them.

  
Grabbing the deck of cards, you mindlessly began shuffling them as a way to keep you occupied. Boris went back to nodding along to the music, but Sammy continued to stare at you. You tried to ignore him and focus on shuffling the cards in as many different ways as you could, but his silent gaze began to unnerve you.

  
Your right eye began to twitch, already tired from being overused. Sighing in irritation from both Sammy's stare and your twitchy eye, you closed your right eye and set the deck of cards on the table before opening both eyes and glaring at Sammy.

  
"Can I help you with something?" You spoke harshly, obviously annoyed.

  
"(Y/N)..." He said, "It's an interesting name for an interesting lamb."

  
Okay, that caught you off guard. What were you supposed to say to that?

  
"Uh... Thanks?" You shifted in your seat slightly, looking away from your inked uncle.

  
You had many questions for him, to be honest. So many, in fact, that you weren't sure where to begin. Hell, you weren't even sure if he was sane enough to answer your questions. It was obvious that he had a few screws loose - well, more than just a few, really.

  
There was so much you wanted to talk to him about, but in his state, who knows how he'd react. He already reacted negatively every time you addressed him as your uncle, you didn't want to tip him off in any way; especially if it made him violent.

  
As if he were reading your mind, Sammy spoke up once more.

  
"Uncle..." He said, tilting his head slightly, "You said I was your uncle?"

  
"Yeah..." You looked back at him, only to avert your gaze once more. "Your sister was Deanne, right?"

  
"My sister..." He hummed in thought, before falling quiet for a few minutes.

  
Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously. You already knew the answer, there was no mistaking that this Sammy was the same Sammy that your mother spoke of. But his memory seemed to be failing him, and you were terrified of the thought of your uncle having completely forgotten his past and his family.

  
"I... faintly remember a woman, yes." He said after his prolonged silence, "Deanne... That name suits her perfectly."

  
You smiled softly at him upon hearing his words. His memory was indeed broken and fragmented, but it seems that he still remembers the important bits of his life prior to his disappearance.

  
Maybe... Just maybe, if you were lucky enough, you could bring him back home. You could get him and Boris out of this hell and-

  
Upon re-examining Sammy's current state, you cut off your idealistic daydreaming then and there. No, there was no way for Sammy to return to his old way of life. Even if you did manage to escape the studio with him, his inky body would stand out like a sore thumb. He'd have to live in isolation to avoid being seen for the rest of his life; however long that would be.

  
Shaking your head, you decided that now wasn't the time to think of such things.

  
"Hey Sammy?" You asked gently, tilting your head slightly.

  
"Yes, little la-" Cutting himself off and pausing for a moment, Sammy corrected himself as he spoke again. "Yes, (Y/N)?"

  
"If you don't mind me asking..." You started, hesitating slightly, "How exactly did you end up like this? Do you remember anything from before?"

  
"Truthfully, I don't remember much before my time in the ink puddles." He said, tapping his finger on the wooden table. "There _was_ when the ink pump was installed... and a whistling sound. A vague melody, with a sinister purpose."

  
Your eyes narrowed slightly at that. [A whistling sound?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOerbjmACzk) You distinctly recalled hearing a whistling tune whilst hiding under the desk during Sammy's ritual. If you recalled, it sounded a little something like...

  
Without saying anything, you began whistling the strange tune. It was similar to _Steamboat Willie_ in a way, but it had its own unique melody.

  
Once you began, both Boris and Sammy perked up and stared at you as you whistled the familiar melody. You hardly had the time to finish before Sammy stood from his seat and interrupted you.

  
"Yes, like that!" He exclaimed, "Just like that!"

  
You hummed in response, unsure of what to say. You weren't sure what to do with this information, really. Filing this information into the back of your mind, you decided to change the subject and ask something else.

  
"Alright, so we've got that out of the way..." You muttered, mostly to yourself. You watched as Sammy seated himself down, recovering from his outburst as Boris fiddled a bit with the radio when the music began to turn to static.

  
"How can you see with that mask?" You asked, closing your left eye once again. The contrast in your sight was annoying you greatly, but there wasn't much that could be done about it. "There are no eye holes... Wait, do you even have eyes?"

  
Instead of speaking, Sammy simply moved his mask up enough for you to see his face; or rather, his lack of one. Much like the ink creatures that attacked you, he had no eyes, nose, or any distinguishable facial features, really. Lowering his mask back down, he finally spoke.

  
"It's difficult to see without it." Was all he said. Before you could inquire any further, you heard a pair of footsteps approach from the hallway. Sammy's attention was then focused on the source of the noise, of which you assumed was Henry.

  
"Good morning, (Y/N)." Henry greeted from behind you, to which you muttered a "good morning" in response. He then said the same to Boris and Sammy before pulling up a chair as well.

  
It was awkwardly quiet between the four of you as you listened to the calm piano tune from the radio.

  
"So..." Henry spoke up first, "Where do we start?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates should be more frequent this summer now that school's out, so the next chapter should be posted sometime within the next week ^^
> 
> In other news, I passed all my finals! Wooo!


	8. Uneasy Interactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With you, Henry, Sammy, and Boris safe and sound in the safe house, you get to know more about the former animator and make plans to escape the studio with your two inky companions.

"So let me get this straight..." You said, leaning back in your seat and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Your first thought upon coming here was to turn on this mysterious machine you found? Not looking for Joey, not looking around for any clue as to where he is, not calling out for him?"

  
Currently, you sat at the table with Henry, Boris, and Sammy. You had been talking to the former animator about why you were here, and what had happened to you before you met with him in the Music Department. He was somewhat shocked to hear about your relation to Sammy, but he wasn't too surprised. Apparently, he had met your mother a long time ago when she came in to visit Sammy while he was working.

  
Unfortunately, Sammy had no recollection of such an event.

  
"Well, when you put it that way, you make it sound unreasonable." Henry replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

  
"That's because it _is_ unreasonable!" You exclaimed, "Who just comes into an abandoned animation studio unannounced and turns on some random machine they found? Did you even know what would happen when you turned it on?"

  
"I was planning on finding out what it did _by_ turning it on." Henry said, "Look, it's not every day you find some giant machine held over a pit with chains - I'm surprised you just brushed something like that off."

  
"I-" Before you could retort, you paused as your mind processed what Henry said. "Wait, it was held up by chains... over a pit?"

  
"Yeah. Why are you so surprised? You said you saw the ink machine, too." Henry replied, raising an eyebrow.

  
"Well, yeah. But when I saw it, it was sitting on the floor in the middle of an empty room. No chains, no pit."

  
Henry stared at you incredulously, unable to speak. Both of you had arrived at this studio within a few hours of each other - how could it have changed so drastically in such little time? You were well aware that this studio was very much cursed, with all the cult imagery and inky monsters; but something like this? It just didn't add up.

  
Luckily, Sammy offered an explanation.

  
"The ink demon can make you see things differently," He said, his forearms resting on the table and his masked gaze directed at you. "Though it's not often that he does something like this, he can make you see what has been, and what is."

  
Silence hung in the air like a thick blanket, until Sammy spoke again.

  
"He allowed you to glimpse into the past, (Y/N) - and he must have had a reason to do so."

  
"But... why?" Was all you could say, confused now more than ever. You never worked here; the only connection you had to this place was through your uncle, unlike Henry, who had co-founded the place.

  
"To be honest, I don't know." Sammy answered, "The motives behind the ink demon's actions are a mystery, even to me."

  
Taking a deep breath and sighing heavily, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand and stared at the empty bowls on the table. Each one had formerly contained bacon soup of which Henry cooked for everyone.

  
Well, everyone except Sammy.

  
"Once we all get out of here, none of it will matter." Henry said, "We'll get out of here, and none of you will have to worry about the ink demon anymore."

  
"Henry..." You started, "I don't know if they can come with us. I mean, just think about it. A cartoon dog and a cultist gone off the deep end. I'd hate to think of what would happen if someone saw them and panicked..."

  
"I'm not leaving them to rot away with this studio." Henry replied, "They don't deserve that."

  
"I know they don't, I never said that they did. I just..." You took another deep breath and ran your hand through your hair, "What if they get seen, and the police are called? Next thing you know, we're in jail, the government's involved, and they're sent off to be experimented on like a couple of lab rats."

  
"Linda and I live on an acreage," Henry sighed, "It's pretty far from the city, not a lot of people come by. They can't be seen if no one's around to see them."

  
You fell silent as you tore your eyes away from Henry to look at Boris and Sammy. Boris continued to bob his head to the music playing from the radio as Sammy stared you down with his masked gaze. Sighing once again, you rubbed your temple and looked back at Henry.

  
"Alright," You said, "We have an idea on what to do once we're out. Now, how do we get out?"

  
"Well, I know someone who seems to know his way around the studio. He can probably get us out." Henry replied, looking over at Boris.

  
"You all can leave," Sammy spoke up, "I'll stay here, at least for a bit longer."

  
"Sammy-" Henry began, but you cut him off.

  
"It's okay, I'll stay back with him." You interrupted, "We'll catch up to you two later."

  
Henry stared at you for a few moments before nodding and standing up.

  
"Alright, but don't take too long." Henry said, "I don't wanna leave you behind."

  
You nodded in response and at that, Boris pulled out a toolbox, setting it down on the table. Henry opened the toolbox and grabbed the lever that was inside, then looked to the operating mechanism beside the safe house door. Boris stood up beside Henry, and walked with him toward the door as he put the lever back in the mechanism and opened the door.

  
Before he stepped out, Henry turned and looked back at you with worried eyes. He looked as though he didn't want to leave, but you both knew that you would have to sooner or later.

  
"Be careful out there, Henry." You said, "We'll catch up to you soon, so don't die before then."

  
"No promises." Henry joked with a grin, then looked forward and stepped out. The door closed behind him and Boris, leaving you alone with your uncle as the music on the radio played on.

  
Closing your eyes, you listened to their muffled footsteps fade away until you could no longer hear them. Upon opening your eyes, you looked to Sammy, who continued to stare at you.

  
"You're so much like her," He said unexpectedly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. "You're so much like my sister."

  
"How so?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

  
"I'm... not quite sure." Sammy admitted, "But you are. I can just tell."

  
Seconds ticked by as the two of you sat there beside each other. Despite everything you wanted to say and everything you wanted to ask, you found that you couldn't say anything. There were no words to describe how you felt, no words that could explain how lost you felt right now.

  
"How is she?" He said suddenly, causing you to snap out of your thoughts.

  
"Oh, she's doing alright." You answered, "She lives on her own now, in the house she grew up in. Well, the house you both grew up in, I guess. She visits every weekend so she can hear me play."

  
"What instruments do you play?" Sammy asked.

  
"Mostly piano, but I can also play violin and clarinet." You paused for a moment before speaking again, "What do you play?"

  
"I... used to play everything." He sighed, looking down at his four-fingered hands. "My favourite was the banjo, though."

  
"Everything? That's impressive." You smiled softly, closing your left eye.

  
"Is it bothering you?" He asked, leaning forward as he changed the subject.

  
"What, my eye?" You brought your hand up, running your fingers along the scratches. "Yeah, it's pretty annoying. I'll just have to get used to it, I guess. Probably get myself an eye patch once we get out, though."

  
Without a word, Sammy grabbed Boris' toolbox and dragged it closer to him. He looked through it a bit, before pulling out a long strip of cloth, and offered it to you. Wordlessly, you grabbed the piece of fabric and looked down at it.

  
It was ragged and slightly torn with a few ink stains, the most recent having been from Samm'ys hand. It was somewhat rough and had definitely seen better days, but you didn't argue as you tied it around your head so it covered your left eye. Once the cloth was tight and secure enough so that it wouldn't slip off, you looked back up at Sammy.

  
"Thanks, that makes everything much easier."

  
Sammy nodded, then leaned back in his chair before speaking again.

  
"Your new eye may cause you trouble," He said, "But there will be times when you may find it useful. Not everything here is what it seems."

  
Unsure of how to respond, you simply nodded your head. It was quiet once more, but Sammy broke the silence again.

  
"Tell me about yourself, (Y/N)." He said simply.

  
"Oh, well... What do you want to know?" You asked, shifting slightly in your seat.

  
"As much as you're willing to tell me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, dialogue! I'll admit, this isn't my best bit of writing, but there'll be much more next chapter ;)


	9. The Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally leaving the safe house, you meet up with Henry at an inopportune moment, and get wrapped up in the angel's errands.

"You really want to bring me with you? Out of the studio?"

  
You nodded firmly, slipping your bag over your shoulder and ensuring that everything in it was safe. Sure enough, the sheet music and blueprints weren't crumpled, the book wasn't damaged in any way, and your water bottle showed no signs of leaking. Retrieving your wrench from the bag, you looked back up at Sammy.

  
"It's like what Henry said," You smiled softly as you spoke, "We can't just leave you and Boris here. It's just... unethical."

  
Sammy fell silent as he glanced over to the safe house door, before nodding and looking back at you.

  
"If that's the case... I'd like to bring a friend of mine with us, if that's alright." He tilted his head slightly, awaiting your response.

  
"You have a..." Your brows furrowed slightly at his request. Why hadn't he mentioned this friend earlier? "Well, okay. As long as they don't try to kill us, I don't mind."

  
"Oh no, he would never hurt anyone." Sammy said, watching you as you pulled the lever to open the steel door and following you out of the safe house.

  
The moment the door shut behind you, you immediately felt like you were being watched. Your left eye twitched from under the fabric that kept it covered as you began walking down the eerie hallway. It was much too quiet for your liking, so you decided to speak with your uncle to ease your nerves.

  
"So..." You started, fiddling with the wrench in your hands, "What's your friend's name?"

  
"His name..." Sammy pondered for a moment as you passed by a large box with a sign saying _Little Miracle Station_ on it. Before he could properly answer your question, however, you soon came upon a darkened hallway. If you listened carefully, you could hear the sound of working machinery within the darkness.

  
"It's too dark," You said, changing the subject and squinting as you tried to see down the unlit hall, "I can't see a thing."

  
Without warning, Sammy reached over and lifted the cloth from your left eye, causing you to jump slightly in alarm from the sudden act. Turning your gaze to your uncle in confusion, your voiceless question was answered as he adjusted the cloth to cover your right eye instead, revealing that you could easily see through the dark with your glowing gold eye.

  
"Not with that eye you can't." He said, patting your head in a childish manner. You simply huffed in response before stepping into the shadowy corridor.

  
It was strangely amazing, really. Despite the contrast in colour, you could still see your surroundings as if you were in broad daylight.

  
The hallway itself was winding and strange, with exposed machinery on every inch of each wall. Cogs spun and wheels turned as you continued forward, the loud clanking and churning of machines surrounding you both. It was almost deafening, to the point where you wished that you could return to the intense silence from earlier.

  
Luckily, it didn't last long as you soon came to the end of the machine hall. The atmosphere quieted down immensely as a steel door shut behind you, silencing the roaring metal structures. Noticing a few lights in the ceiling, you guessed that this area was well-lit, and moved the cloth on your face so that it once again covered your left eye.

  
"Alright then..." You muttered, mostly to yourself. "Let's keep going."

  
Gripping your wrench tight in your hand, you continued on with Sammy by your side. There was a tattered Bendy face on the wall straight ahead, and despite how ominous it seemed, you insisted on not letting it bother you. You walked around the right side of the wall before entering a large open room. There were a few wooden rails leading down the length of the room, with a large sign reading _Heavenly Toys_ in the center of it all.

  
Before you could say anything, you noticed movement on the left side, and found Henry wielding an axe nearby a couch with several broken Bendy cutouts. His back was facing you, and he seemed unaware of your presence. As such, you decided to say something to him, but Sammy beat you to it.

  
" _What do you think you're doing!?_ " He screeched, causing Henry to jump and fumble with his axe as he whipped around to see you two on the other side of the room. He sighed in relief upon seeing that it was just you, then turned to look at the only unbroken cutout in the room, which happened to be propped up against the couch beside Henry.

 

"I'm doing what I have to do," Henry answered, bringing his axe down on the final cutout, "It's a long story."

  
Before Sammy could say anything in response, the cutout was destroyed, and a feminine voice spoke out over the speakers of the PA system.

  
"Ah, now that was fun!" The mystery woman said, "Oh, but I forgot to mention... he _hates_ it when I do that. I would hide if I were you."

  
As if on cue, a hissing sound was heard from the opposite side of the room. Freezing in terror as your heart pounded in your ears, you watched as the ink demon appeared at the top of the right staircase and slowly walked down towards you.

  
Henry moved swiftly to your side, opening a nearby Miracle Station and looking at you.

  
"It might be cramped, but it can fit two people inside." He said, holding the door open and staring at you and Sammy. "You two can hide here, I'll-"

  
Before he could finish that sentence, the ink demon perked up and stared at the three of you for a split second before breaking out into a sprint. A surge of adrenaline pumped through your body as you pushed Sammy toward Henry, and ran around to the left side of the fence. The two yelled after you, but upon watching the ink demon slink closer, they scrambled into the miracle station, leaving you to deal with the hostile ink demon on your own.

  
Bendy came to a halt once the two were safe within the Miracle Station, then slowly turned his head to look at you; the only thing standing between you being a small wooden fence that you could easily jump over with a minimal amount of effort.

  
Instead of hurdling the small obstacle, however, he simply swiped at you with a clawed hand, nicking the cloth covering your eye enough for it to fall to the ground. You stood there, petrified, as the ink demon towered over you in a threatening manner. Before you could do anything, you heard a familiar voice - the same one you heard when you were in the bathroom at the safe house.

  
_Oh, little lamb..._ The voice said in the familiar, layered tone, _You are such a delight._

  
Swallowing a lump in your throat, you took a step back as you felt an inky tear fall down your left cheek. The ink demon turned its head to look at the Miracle Station where your two companions hid, then looked back down to you.

  
_Tell me, dear lamb... Why are you here?_

  
Summoning every ounce of courage, you gripped your wrench so tight your knuckles turned white. Instead of answering the ink demon's question, you swung your weapon up at his face and landed a heavy hit. As he stumbled back and let out an ear-piercing screech, you turned and ran up the staircase and into the next room as fast as you could, sprinting past a room full of toys and into an Alice-themed room. Unsure of what to do next, you spotted a small collection of barrels in a corner, and dove behind those as a last-minute hiding spot. You weren't sure if the ink demon gave chase, but you weren't gonna wait around in the open to find out.

  
Seconds ticked by, which soon turned into minutes. It was dead silent, until you soon heard two pairs of footsteps approach the room you were hidden in. With the lack of inky tendrils coating the walls, it was safe to say that the ink demon had left you.

  
_For now._

  
Standing up from behind the barrels, you looked up at Henry and Sammy as they entered the room, wiping away any traces of the ink that fell from your golden eye. The two turned to look at you, Henry's face conveying a mix of worry, relief, and anger. You were sure that Sammy probably felt the same way, but it was hard to tell with the mask blocking his face (or lack thereof).

  
Henry spoke up as soon as you clambered out from behind the collection of barrels.

  
"I... am at a loss for words." He said, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand, "That was both the bravest and the stupidest thing you could have possibly done."

  
"Yeah, I know..." You muttered, only for Sammy to speak up afterwards.

  
"He wouldn't have appeared if you had just left his demons alone," He said, staring at Henry, "Why are you working for that false angel?"

  
"I had no choice," Henry answered, "She cornered me and told me to run some errands; in exchange, she'll let us leave. Personally, I'd say that's a pretty good bargain."

  
Sammy let out a heavy sigh, before turning back to you. He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out the cloth he had previously given to you for your eye.

  
"Here," He said, handing it to you, "Try not to lose it again."

  
"I won't," You replied, taking the piece of fabric and tying it around your head and over your eye once more. "So, Henry, what's your plan?"

  
"It's pretty simple, really." Henry answered, "Finish Alice's tasks and leave."

  
"Simple enough," You stated, before glancing at Sammy, "Quick thing though, Sammy wanted to find a friend of his so that he could come with us."

  
"That shouldn't be too much of a problem..." Henry said, looking over to the musician in question, "That just depends on where your friend is."

  
"He normally stays on Level 14," Sammy responded, "He shouldn't be too difficult to find."

  
"Alright," Henry nodded, turning toward a nearby hallway, "I saw a button for Level 14 on the elevator. I'll figure out what my next task is, then we can head down to get your friend before I get started on it."

  
"Sounds good," You said, walking with him and Sammy down the hallway. The walk to the elevator was mostly silent, save for some light conversation here and there; as well as Henry explaining what happened to him in greater detail. With much luck, you didn't run into Bendy on the way to your destination.

  
It wasn't until you had just walked past the washrooms that you had a sudden thought.

  
"Say, Henry?" You asked, "Why doesn't Alice just tell you your next task on the PA system instead of having you go all the way down to Level 9?"

  
"I have to return whatever weapon she gives me," Henry answered as you walked down the stairs, "She gave me this axe, so I have to give it back and take whatever it is she'll give me next."

  
"But what if she doesn't give you anything?" You said, pressing the elevator button and waiting for it to arrive.

  
"Well, that's what I have this gent pipe for," Henry patted said pipe, which was clipped onto his belt. "It's not the best weapon, but it gets the job done."

  
You hummed in response as the elevator arrived, and the doors opened.

  
"I did see an axe in another room, just down the hall on Level 9." Henry said, stepping into the lift, "I'll grab that if she doesn't have anything else for me."

  
Once all three of you were on the lift, Henry pressed the button for Level 9. After the button was pressed, the metal door closed and you began your descent.

  
For some reason, though, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You tried to convince yourself that it was simply because of your previous encounter with Bendy, but another part of you argued against that claim. No, something wasn't right, you could _feel_ it, you were certain.

  
"Hey, Henry," You spoke, handing him your wrench, "You can take this, and give the pipe to Sammy. He'll be more useful with a weapon, and I have a feeling that you might need this. I'll go find that axe you were talking about, okay?"

  
Henry stared at you for a moment, seemingly skeptical. It wasn't until you arrived at Level 9 and the elevator doors opened that he nodded, unclipping the gent pipe from his belt and handing it to Sammy before taking your wrench.

  
"The axe should be in that room over there." Henry pointed at an open door down a hallway to your left once you both stepped out of the elevator. You nodded, then looked back at Sammy.

  
"We'll wait for you here." Was all he said before you turned away and walked toward the open room. Henry was already halfway across the room to a large door, with an Alice Angel sign reading _She's Quite a Gal!_ above it.

  
Paying him no mind, you turned and looked into the small room. There was a desk with a chair beside it, and a tape recorder resting on the seat. Several boxes were crammed into the room with it as well. Pressing play on the tape, you got to work looking for the axe as you listened.

  
"They say uh, the real problem with Mister Drew is that he never actually tells us little people anything. Oh sure, according to him, there's always 'big stuff coming', adventure and fame and the like."

  
Pushing aside one of the boxes, sure enough, you found the axe that Henry had mentioned. Grabbing it, you then turned your full attention to the audio log.

  
"But uh, I'm the guy, see, who has to make our budgets don't go all out of whack just cause genius upstairs went out and got himself another idea. Speaking of which, and this is top secret... apparently Mister Drew has another large project in mind now. And it ain't gonna be cheap."

  
You sighed once the recording cut out, and stared at the silent tape for a few moments. You couldn't help but feel bad for the poor guy - whom you assumed to be the accountant for the studio, judging from how he spoke of budgeting. Maybe you'll ask Sammy about him. If you were lucky, he just might remember something.

  
You were immediately snapped out of your thoughts, however, when you heard Alice's voice on the PA System once more; presumably speaking to Henry.

  
"The disgusting wretches have wandered my halls, have gone unchecked! They're trying to drag me back to the darkness! Don't let them take your angel!"

  
At that, you heard something... slimy. Something creeping from further down the hall on the opposite side of the room you currently stood in. Looking back, you could feel your face drain of all colour as you saw what you could only describe as a monstrous version of the Butcher Gang. It looked like someone had shoved all three of them into a blender, combined with some random maintenance tools to substitute for several limbs.

  
And all three had their sights set on you.

  
"Purge them one by one!" Alice screeched over the PA system, "Smash them into puddles! _Kill them_!"

  
Not wanting to get cornered in the tiny room, you slipped out and retreated back to the elevator, where there was more space. Unfortunately, several inky monsters made themselves known once you left the room, only adding to the amount of opponents you had to face.

  
Luckily, the searchers (as Sammy had called them) were easily disposed of with a single blow. Taking a quick moment to recover before the Butcher Gang arrived, you looked to your two inky companions inside the elevator.

  
The elevator door was shut tight, and no matter how many times Sammy aggressively pushed on the door button, it refused to open. In frustration, he punched the cage and stared at you as you looked away from him down to Henry.

  
The former animator knew you were in trouble, and made his way over to you as fast as he could. It was difficult, however, as several searchers attempted to take him down. It was a good thing you gave him your wrench, though, as they were disposed of with a single heavy blow each.

  
Henry arrived by your side just in the nick of time, as Edgar and Charlie had finally made it to you. The moment that Edgar moved to strike you, you had already prepared yourself to attack - swinging the axe and cutting off his arm while Henry took care of Charlie.

  
Despite having his entire arm severed from his body, the deformed toon remained unswayed and moved to attack you once more. You managed to move back just in time to avoid his swing, before bringing your axe down into his skull (mouth?). That was all it took as the inky abomination melted into a puddle, with Charlie following close behind. All that was left was Barley, who's head swung from a fishing pole implanted in his neck.

  
With the odds now tipped in your favour, both you and Henry stepped forward with renewed confidence, and swiftly disposed of the corrupted cartoon creature.

  
Once the final ink monster melted into a dark puddle, Alice spoke up over the PA system once again.

  
"So quiet... Like a welcoming grave. I like the silence, don't you?"

  
Those words did nothing but set you on edge as you walked with Henry down to the angel's gate. You wanted to stay with him, just in case she pulled something like that again. So, you walked up the steps, and stared at the large metal door as the angel spoke.

  
"I hate leaving work unfinished! Fortunately, I have you to pick up the pieces. But you'll have to go deeper. Down, down, down into the abyss. Take the lift down. Say hello to an old friend..."

  
You furrowed you brows. That didn't sound intimidating at all...

  
"I'm sending you a little present. A little firepower. Take good care of it. It belonged to someone very special."

  
You heard a machine move and rotate on the left, and looked over to see a... tommy gun? At that, you could only feel your mind implode from confusion. How the hell did she get that? And from where? Who was she talking about? Who did this thing belong to? What made them so special?

  
Your thought process came to a halt when you saw the haunted look in Henry's eyes. It was a look you were familiar with, especially when it came to veterans of war.

  
So you stepped forward, tucking the fire axe into your bag, you carefully took the heavy weapon, keeping your finger off the trigger to avoid unnecessary shots. This wasn't your first time handling a firearm, as you had gone hunting a few times with some friends. This was, however, your first time handling a semi-automatic firearm.

  
Keeping the barrel of the gun aimed at the floor, you turned to Henry.

  
"Alright, let's get this over with." You sighed, following Henry to the elevator.

  
The elevator door opened without any trouble, allowing you and Henry to enter the lift.

  
"So, we need to go to Level 14 to get Sammy's friend," You said, pressing the button for the said floor, "Then where do we need to go?"

  
"I think she wanted us to go down there in the first place," Henry answered, "It's the only place you can get to by the lift, and it's the only level I haven't been to yet."

  
"I wonder what she needs..." You muttered as the elevator slowly descended deeper down into the studio. It didn't take too long, as the elevator soon came to a stop and opened the doors. You, Henry, and Sammy all stepped out as Boris remained behind in the safety of the elevator.

  
You looked around at your new surroundings with wide eyes, staring at the huge room in awe. Ink was flowing down the walls, and upon looking down from the elevator deck, it seemed as though the entire level was flooded with the stuff. Henry shared your shock, standing beside you as you both stared down at the inky floor.

  
Turning back around, you found your uncle standing near a corner by a set of stairs, staring down at the corpse of an unfortunate Edgar. In the palm of the deceased creature's hand, however, you saw an ink-covered heart.

  
"So this is what she wants..." Sammy muttered, just loud enough for you and Henry to hear. "Of course, it's obvious. Every creature needs a heart to live, to become stable... she's no exception."

  
You and Henry approached Sammy, staring down at the heart with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Henry soon sighed, and grabbed the heart that the angel required. Once he grabbed it, however, a piercing mechanical scream could be heard from within the hallways of the flooded level.

  
"What was that?" You asked, the three of you running down the stairs and staring down from the lower balcony. You could see a moving light coming from the left entrance, as if someone were carrying a working projector.

  
"I don't know..." Henry said, not doing much to answer you question.

  
"No, wait..." Sammy spoke up, leaning forward and over the rail as the light drew closer to the clearing, "Something isn't right..."

  
Before the source of the light could reveal itself, Alice spoke up from the PA system to offer her input.

  
"Shhhh... there he is. The Projectionist, skulking in the darkness. You be sure to stay out of his light, if you don't want trouble. Just bring me back the pieces I need."

  
"The Projectionist...?" You muttered, only for Sammy to perk up and stare as the creature entered the clearing.

  
"No, no no no no..." Sammy said, stepping back from the wooden rail of the balcony, "No, what did she do...?"

  
"Sammy, what's wrong?" You asked, looking at him with a worried expression, "What is that?"

  
"It's Norman."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe the reader has a gun


	10. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with Sammy's old friend, you continue on to complete the angel's final task.

Sammy stared in horror as Norman walked through the doorway, revealing his new, monstrous form. He remained frozen in place as he watched the projector mounted upon his head nod along with each heavy step he took through the ink-flooded floor.

  
Unable to contain his grief, he dropped the gent pipe he wielded as a weapon and jumped over the balcony's wooden rail, landing in the ink below. Standing up straight, he ran as fast as he could through the dark substance toward his friend, calling out his name.

  
"Norman!"

  
As soon as the projectionist's name was spoken, said man came to a halt and turned his head to look right at Sammy. The light from his projector was bright and blinding, but the musician ignored it as he heard a mechanical screech emanate from the speaker embedded in his chest. The light quickly came closer, indicating that Norman was charging forward with ill intent.

  
"Norman, please, it's me!" Calling out to his friend once again, he raised his hands slightly in a non-threatening manner. The light of the projector slowed its approach, until it stopped completely. A soft static noise could be heard from his speaker, and the light moved in a way that seemed as though Norman was tilting his head.

  
Swallowing the fear that he felt at his friend's new form, Sammy began walking forward slowly. There was no reason for him to be afraid. It didn't matter what form he took, this was still Norman. This was still the clever, witty projectionist he's always been - no matter what Alice does.

  
"It's okay, I'm here now..." Sammy spoke in a soft tone, halting once he was within an arm's reach, "We can leave this place, Norman. We can finally be free."

  
More static emitted from his speaker as Norman slowly raised a clawed hand, and placed it on Sammy's mask. Frankly, Sammy wasn't completely convinced that Norman understood him. But that wouldn't stop him from saying what he could to his friend.

  
Sammy kept quiet until Norman removed his hand from his mask, before stepping forward and taking the projector in his hands gently. The light in it dimmed slightly as he tilted Norman's head side to side, examining the wires protruding from the back and the ink dripping from the lens.

  
"Oh, Norman..." He muttered, mostly to himself, "What did she do to you...?" 

  
If he was capable of it, he would definitely be crying. He couldn't imagine the torment that Norman had been through at the hands of the false angel. Sammy wasn't sure if it would have been better or worse if she had simply sent him back into the puddles, instead of reducing him to this.

  
Upon hearing the sloshing of ink behind him, Sammy let go of Norman and turned around to see you and Henry, approaching him and Norman with caution. Norman, however, was alarmed by the sight of you and let out another mechanical screech, moving to approach and attack the two of you. But before he could do so, Sammy grabbed the projectionist's shoulder and held him back, before coming forward and keeping himself between you and Norman.

  
"It's okay, they're friends." Sammy reassured him, "They're gonna help us get out of here."

  
Once Norman was calmed down, Sammy let go and turned back to you. It was now that he noticed that you had adjusted your cloth to cover your right eye rather than your left, the soft golden glow paling in comparison to Norman's bright projector light.

  
Both you and Henry looked from Sammy to Norman, then back again before you spoke up.

  
"Is this the friend you were looking for...?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

  
"Yes," Sammy nodded, "Though he has undergone a few changes since our last meeting... he is still the same Norman."

  
"Norman?" Henry spoke up, squinting at said projectionist with a somewhat sad expression. "I... Well, I was hoping we'd meet again under better circumstances..."

  
"You knew him?" You asked, turning your one-eyed gaze away from the blinding light of the projectionist and toward the old animator standing beside you.

  
"Yeah, we hired him not long after we founded the company." Henry said, sighing softly before looking between Norman and Sammy. "Now... as much as I'd like to catch up, we'll have have to wait until later. Right now, we need to find a few ink hearts. Do you know where any are?"

  
Norman was silent for a few moments, seemingly processing Henry's question. For a second, Sammy was worried that Norman didn't understand, until he nodded and turned to the maze, trudging through ink to lead them to their objective.

  
Thus, Sammy followed the projectionist, with you and Henry trailing behind him. It wasn't difficult for him to keep up with Norman, who walked rather quickly despite the weight of the projector mounted on his head - with the added difficulty of wading through knee-deep ink. You and Henry, on the other hand, were having troubles staying close. Luckily, none of you had to go too far; for as you approached a nearby Miracle Station, Norman stopped and opened the door of the box, revealing a stash of the requested ink hearts. There were at least six, piled up in a disorganised manner within the station.

  
"Alright..." Henry muttered, staring down at the collection of ink-coated organs, "I think four will suffice."

  
Sammy nodded in response, grabbing two of the hearts whilst Norman retrieved another two from his stash.

  
"Do you really think five will be enough?" You asked, keeping your weapon lowered and counting the five hearts the three men now held. Before any of them could answer, Alice's voice spoke once again over the studio's PA System.

  
"Tell me, are they still writhing in your hands? Bring them to me! I don't like to wait."

  
Sammy looked down at the hearts he held as Henry led the way out of the ink-soaked maze of projectors, staring at them. No, they were not writhing. They were completely motionless. He knew that they wouldn't move, they _couldn't_ move. They would not twitch, writhe, or beat unless they were implanted within or consumed by one of the many creatures inhabiting this place.

  
As he followed behind his three companions, he couldn't help but wonder what the angel wanted with this many hearts. Most ink creatures, himself included, only required one heart to remain stable - two at most. Why did she need five? That was highly unnecessary, and quite excessive.

  
Something just wasn't right.

  
But as he walked up the stairs toward the lift, he kept his thoughts to himself. Whatever it was that she was doing, it would hardly matter once they had escaped. It wouldn't be their problem, and he wouldn't have to worry about it.

  
Ink hearts in hand, Sammy entered the lift with you, Henry, and Norman, pressing the button to Level 9. The ride up was quiet as Sammy looked to Norman, who was staring at Boris. Boris was silently staring back, occasionally tilting his head and glancing down from Norman's projector head to the hearts he held, each one dripping with ink.

  
"Do you think we're almost done with these errands?" You asked, looking at Henry as the elevator soon arrived to the requested floor. The doors opened as Henry answered, stepping out of the lift.

  
"I hope so. I'm getting too old to be moving around like this." He smiled softly as he joked, trying to make light of the situation as the four of you crossed the bridge to deliver the hearts that the angel required.

  
You laughed at Henry, claiming that he "can't be that old" before placing the unused tommy gun back in it's case where you had taken it from. Henry ushered Norman and Sammy toward the right, depositing the ink heart he held into a bin and stepping to the side, waiting for his two inky companions to do the same.

  
Following Henry's lead, Sammy carelessly dumped his two hearts into the bin, with Norman following suit. Once Norman had let go on the final heart, the angel's voice could be heard.

  
"It seems we've reached the end of my to-do list, my little errand boy." She spoke over the PA system in a condescending tone, one that irritated Sammy to no end. "I hope you enjoyed our time together... I'll _always_ treasure it. Return to the lift. It's time to go home."

  
"I guess we're finished," You stated out loud, retrieving your axe out of your bag. Henry nodded in response, and you looked back at Sammy and Norman with a wide cheerful grin. "Come on, guys, let's get outta here!"

  
Sammy followed close behind you as you walked down the stairs and back across the bridge with a skip in your step. He suddenly felt a warm fuzzy feeling when he saw how happy you were, and found himself staring at the back of your head as you adjusted the cloth to cover the ink demon's mark. He felt something that he never felt before - and if he had in the past, it must have been years since he felt it. Perhaps he felt this way towards his sister once upon a time. It seemed rather likely, from what you told him of her, and how she spoke of him.

  
You pressed the button to open the elevator door, your eye lighting up with child-like excitement as you entered the lift. You seemed more ecstatic than anyone else at the thought of finally leaving, and it soon became obvious why.

  
"Mom's gonna be thrilled to see you again!" You beamed, pressing the button for the doors to close once everyone was in the lift.

  
At that, the elevator began to rise. Alice spoke once more over the PA System as Sammy looked down at his inky four-fingered hands, lost in thought at your words.

  
_Would Deanne even recognise him?_

  
"Have you ever wondered what heaven is like?"

  
_Would she still care about him, even in this body?_

  
"I like to dream that it's quite beautiful."

  
_It's been thirty years since he fell victim to the ink machine - would she remember him?_

  
"A soft valley of green grass, blanketed by a warm sun."

  
_Did she forget about him, like he had forgotten about her?_

  
"I don't think I'll ever get to see it."

  
Before he could think any further, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Looking over, he saw that the hand belonged to Henry. The older man stared kindly at him, his soft gaze calming his nerves as you stared up at the roof of the lift. The words of the angel obviously unnerved you, but the sparkle of happiness was still there.

  
"Are you ready to ascend, my little errand boy? The heavens are waiting."

  
Sammy sighed, his hands falling to his side with Henry's as he then looked to Norman and Boris. Norman's light was directed to one of the walls of the elevator shaft, and Boris looked around aimlessly as he listened to Alice's words.

  
But words were no longer being said over the speakers in the lift. Instead of the angel's usual speech, her dialogue was replaced by menacing laughter.

  
Sammy looked back at you and Henry to find that any semblance of happiness and excitement that dwelt within you had been snuffed out by confusion and concern.

  
And within a split second, your expression was overcome with fear and panic as the elevator lurched, plummeting down at an alarming speed. Alice's voice sounded over the speakers as she screeched at the five of them.

  
"Did you really think I'd let you steal him away from me?! Did you really think I'd just let you go?!"

  
Boris trembled and covered his eyes as Norman let out a mechanical screech, nearly drowning out the angel's voice.

  
"No, Henry! I know who you are! And I know why you're here! And you will not stop what needs to be done! Now come down, and bring me back my Boris!"

  
Sammy watched as Norman looked around, the speaker on his chest emitting ear-piercing white noise. Boris continued to tremble, and Henry stood still in shock as he stared at the speakers in the lift. Your wide (colour) eye flickered toward Henry in shock and terror, then to Boris, then finally to Sammy. The fear in your eyes would bring tears to his, and as much as he wanted to comfort you, he knew that this might very well be yours and Henry's untimely end if the angel refused to slow the elevator's descent.

  
"It's the most perfect Boris I've ever seen, and I want it! I _need_ it... I need its insides so I can be beautiful again! Don't you understand?"

  
As much as Sammy hated to admit it, he very much understood what she intended to do with Boris. He had done such a thing before; with another, less perfect Boris mere moments before he met you. Dissecting the insides of another to keep oneself stable - an act he did both to better himself and to spite Joey for what was done to him.

  
"Don't you get it?! Give him to me! Or better yet, I'll take him! Once... You're... _Dead!_ "

  
Henry stepped back toward Boris in a protective manner, clutching the wrench in his hands until his knuckles turned white. Sammy looked to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you close defensively. He knew it wouldn't do much, as this threat wasn't one he could protect you from.

  
Looking down at you with his masked face, he gazed at your terrified form. You stared at the walls of the elevator shaft with tears in your eye, a sight that sent a surge of burning rage through his cursed body.

  
"Look at me, (Y/N)," He said as gently as he could above the squealing of metal and Norman's screams. Once your gaze was on him, he spoke again.

  
"Everything will be fine... You'll be okay-"

  
Before any more words left his ink-stained lips, the elevator crashed - and everything went black.


	11. The Angel's Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miraculously, everyone survived the elevator's plummet to Level S, but not everyone is able to survive their encounter with the angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW: Mild gore)

Groaning as he slowly regained consciousness, Sammy struggled to solidify his near-liquid body, adjusting his mask and suspenders as he examined the area. He stood to his feet uneasily, watching as Boris tried to shake Henry awake nearby. Not far away, Norman lied limp on the ground; his projector head was banged up and his light flickered, but Sammy could tell that he'd be fine once he awoke.

  
The moment he saw you on the ground, however, he was by your side in an instant to ensure your safety. He couldn't allow any harm to come to you, his precious little lamb.

  
The fabric that covered your eye had fallen down, hanging around your neck like a necklace and exposing the black gashes along your eye. Carefully, Sammy placed his hand on your warm cheek, turning your head toward him, allowing him to properly see your face. You looked... surprisingly peaceful, despite the dire situation. He almost wanted to leave you be, to allow you to continue your tranquil slumber.

  
Sighing softly to himself, his gaze lowered down to your chest. He watched it for a few moments, staring as it rose and fell with each breath you took. That's a good sign, it means you're still alive.

  
Standing up, Sammy examined the rest of your body. You were littered with fresh bruises and scratches, with several cuts still bleeding. None of it looked too serious, until his eyes were drawn to your ankle.

  
It was twisted in a strange way, one that seemed unnatural on a living human.

  
Unfortunately, Sammy couldn't focus on you any longer as he heard a familiar voice hum a beautifully sinister melody in the distance. He didn't have to look to know who it was - he could recognise that angelic voice anywhere.

  
It was a shame that the voice belonged to someone far from angelic.

  
Now, Sammy had a choice to make. He could stand down and allow the false angel to take what she wanted. He could keep himself safe at the expense of another.

  
Sammy suppressed a groan. No, it was obvious that both you and Henry cared deeply for the wolf. He couldn't allow the angel to take him.

  
But what could he do? He was a failure, barely keeping himself together, constantly leaking at the seams. She, on the other hand, was nearly perfect. She, at the very least, bore a striking resemblance to the character she was supposed to be. She was incredibly powerful.

  
Looking back over to Norman's flickering light, he swiftly decided on a plan of action.

  
He didn't have to defeat the false angel; all he had to do was hold her off until Norman woke up. With how strong Norman is, he'd be able to help him fend her off with little issues.

  
Finding the axe you held prior to the accident lying near your body, he grabbed it before facing the dimly lit hallway that the angel walked down. He could see her dark figure draw closer and closer, until he finally decided to step forward between her and Boris - who was currently preoccupied with Henry.

  
"Well well well..." She came to a halt, eyeing Sammy up and down as she spoke. "If it isn't Sammy Lawrence. It's been far too long..."

  
"Not long enough, if you ask me." Sammy retorted, gripping his axe tightly. "You haven't exactly aged well, Susie."

  
Sammy ducked down just in time to avoid the syringe being swung at him, before stepping back further away from the angel.

  
"You _know_ that's not who I am!" She screeched, already enraged, " _I'm_ Alice Angel, no matter what you _or_ Joey says!"

  
"You've fallen too far," Sammy said, "You're no angel."

  
At that, she seemed to relax slightly, her gaze never leaving Sammy.

  
"Not yet... but once I get my hands on that Boris-"

  
"You'll have to get past me, first." Sammy interrupted, stepping forward slightly in an attempt to intimidate her. She only laughed in response.

  
"Please, getting past you will be easier than taking down a searcher." She smirked, placing a hand on her hip. "You know, if you back down now, it would spare us both the trouble."

  
"I'm afraid that's out of the question." Sammy replied, standing his ground.

  
No more words were exchanged as Alice lunged forward, brandishing her syringe in an attempt to stab him. Sammy managed to stumble back in time to avoid being pierced with the needle, and swung his axe in retaliation. The axe blade skimmed the angel's abdomen, but she moved away before she could be gravely injured.

  
As soon as Sammy followed through with his swing, Alice lunged at him once more. This time, he had no time to dodge or evade her as she knocked his axe to the floor and pinned him to the ground.

  
Her needle hovered over his chest as his inky hands gripped her forearms, preventing her from plunging the syringe into his heart. He should've known how one-sided this fight would be- no, this wasn't even a fight. A fight would imply that they were equal, but the difference between them was like the difference between Heaven and Earth. She may not be an angel, but she was more complete than he could ever hope to be.

  
With his strength waning, he struggled to hold her off much longer. He prayed for Norman to wake up and aid him, or even for Boris to pitch in and save him. But no, Norman's projector light continued to flicker on and off, and Boris remained focused solely on Henry.

  
No one would come to save him.

  
Finally, with one final push, Alice sunk the needle deep into his chest. Sammy groaned out in pain, and fell limp as he released the angel's arms, his own falling to the floor by his sides. He could feel the thick ink that flowed through him drain from his body, extracted for the false angel's use. The moment the syringe was full, he felt significantly weaker, as though he was unable to move. His cursed body felt heavy, and colder than usual.

  
He could do nothing but watch as she removed the syringe, smiling menacingly at the extracted ink. She placed it to the side before staring down into Sammy's masked eyes with a sinister glimmer within them.

  
"You know... I think I might just spare you," She said. Grabbing his mask and removing it, she tossed it away as if it were trash. "As long as you agree to worship a _real_ angel, instead of some filthy demon, that is."

  
Without his mask, it was difficult to see. Perhaps it was an improvement, at least now he wouldn't have to clearly see Alice's sneering face.

  
"I would never _bow_ before a fake." He spat, baring his inky fangs.

  
Wordlessly, Alice plunged her hand into his chest, digging through the thick ink to finally grab at his heart. He could do nothing as her fingers wrapped around the organ, gripping it tight, before tearing it out of his abdomen.

  
The angel retrieved her syringe and stood up, his heart in hand. Sammy could do nothing as she stepped over his melting body. He could do nothing as she grabbed Boris, and dragged him away down the hall.

  
He could do nothing but lie there, motionless, with a gaping hole in his chest. It was all he could do just to hold himself together.

  
He knew it was inevitable, that he would melt away and return to the puddles. But if he could keep it together long enough, then at the very least, he could see you before he completely melted away.

  
So he waited, using every ounce of strength left within him to remain solid enough. He did everything he could to ignore the calling voices of the dark puddles, for it was the only thing he could do.

 

 

Upon hearing Norman's loud mechanical screech, you jolted awake and looked around frantically to find the source; the loud noise only worsened the intense pain in your head. Adjusting your cloth as you sat up, you covered your injured eye and stood to your feet- only to crumple back down to the floor when a burning pain shot up your right ankle.

  
_Aw, shit._

  
You didn't have to look down to know that it was either broken or badly sprained. Either or, you wouldn't be able to walk very well.

  
"Norman?" You called out, voice cracking slightly as you spoke. "Sammy? Henry? Are you guys okay? Is everyone alright?"

  
"(Y/N), Wait-" You heard Henry's voice, and managed to crawl toward him. Ignoring his plea to wait, you gripped the wall beside you and stood up once you were close enough.

  
Only to fall back to your knees at the sight in front of you.

  
Sammy lied on the ground, completely still as ink oozed out of a gaping wound in his chest. Tears clouded your vision as Norman and Henry stood nearby, unable to do anything but watch as both you and Sammy fell apart in front of them.

  
"(Y/N)..." Sammy rasped out, his entire lower body having already melted into a puddle - not even his pants were free from being liquefied into black ink.

  
Despite your injured ankle, you were by his side in an instant. You went to hold his hand, an attempt to comfort him, but it melted away the moment you touched it. So you settled by keeping your hand by your side, staring at him as you waited for him to speak his words. You could only imagine how difficult it was for him right now.

  
"She... took him," He wheezed out his words, as though he were choking on his own ink. "She took Boris. I'm so... Sorry..."

  
"Hey, it's okay, we'll..." You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, trying to blink away your tears. "We'll get him back. You just... You just rest, we'll figure this out. We'll help you, just... _Please_..."

  
No, this was too much. You only just found your uncle after living your life believing that he was dead, you couldn't lose him again.

  
As cold as it seemed, you didn't care for Boris right now. No; right now, all of your focus was on your uncle. Right now, you wracked your mind to think of something you could do to help him. Something to keep him alive.

  
But you couldn't think of anything.

  
All you could do was watch as your lost family melted away in front of you.


	12. Dark Puddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With little time to grieve, the three of you press forward with heavy hearts. But fate seems to have other plans, as the weight of reality sets in and forces you to adapt to the ink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for the kind comments! All of you are way too nice - thank you very much!!!

The atmosphere around the three of you was thick and heavy as you stared down at the black puddle of ink, of which had formerly been in the shape of your uncle. Tears continued to stream down your cheek as you remained unmoving from your position on the floor, kneeling beside where he had been. It wasn't until Henry spoke that you finally snapped out of your grief-stricken trance.

  
"I'm sorry," He said, stepping forward and resting a hand gently on your shoulder. "I know it must be hard to lose him again..."

  
You remained silent, allowing your one-eyed gaze to flicker toward the nearby Bendy mask that lied on the ground nearby, right beside a discarded fire axe. Your sorrow simmered slowly, until it boiled into a burning rage.

  
How _dare_ she?! Did she _really_ think she could come by and slay your family in cold blood, and _get away_ with it?

  
Shrugging Henry away, you made your way over to the two objects. You picked up the gnarled Bendy mask first, looking down at it with both contempt and fondness. Slipping off the fabric covering your left eye, you put on the mask yourself and adjusted it so it kept the left half of your face hidden; wrapping the cloth you previously used around your injured ankle in an attempt to help mend it even slightly.

  
Grabbing the axe, you looked back up at Henry with a raging fire in your eye. His solemn expression remained as he stepped forward, handing you your bag (which had miraculously survived the plummet, as well as it's contents) and helping you up.

  
"Gah-!" Henry let out a pained groan as he tried to support you, only to stumble himself. It seemed you weren't the only one who was injured from the fall.

  
Before either of you could react, you felt a pair of arms scoop you up from the floor. Low static emanated from Norman's chest speaker as he tossed you over his right shoulder, causing several of his cables to thwap against the side of your face.

  
"Oh, uh..." You stammered, face flushing in embarrassment, "Thanks Norman, but you don't... You don't have to-"

  
A low mechanical growl silenced you. Deciding to remain quiet, you strained your neck to look over at Henry, who merely stared at you with an amused expression as he went to move forward. You simply rolled your eyes in response, and held you axe out for him to take. Once he retrieved the weapon, he and Norman then began to walk down the corridor as you stared back at the inky remains of Sammy.

  
Throughout the entire ordeal, you had failed to noticed the constant stream of ink flowing from your left eye.

  
You weren't entirely aware of where you were going. All you could see was where you had been as Norman carried you through the depths of the forsaken studio. To be quite honest, though, you weren't really paying much attention. You knew you should be - after all, if you ran into trouble, you'd need to know where you were going.

  
Instead, your mind was clouded with a hurricane of conflicting emotions. Confusion, sorrow, anxiety, frustration... But one emotion stood out from the rest, and that was the fiery wrath that you harboured toward the angel.

  
"(Y/N)?" Henry spoke up as you continued down the corridors. "Are you alright...?"

  
"Yeah," You said in a sarcastic tone, not bothering to look up at him. "Just peachy."

  
"I couldn't help but notice," Henry said, ignoring your rude remark, "Your eye - the left one - there's been a lot of, uh... stuff coming out of it."

  
"Hm?" You blinked. Slipping a hand beneath the masked half of your face to feel the area around your eye, you found your hand coated in ink; more so than usual. "Oh..."

  
You weren't sure how to react, really. With everything that's been happening in this studio, ink leaking from your eye was the least of your worries. As such, you simply wiped the ink-covered hand on the sleeve of your shirt, and turned your gaze back down to the ground.

  
"It's probably nothing..." You said in a half-hearted tone. Henry seemed as though he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue as he looked forward.

  
Henry's gaze landed on a locked vault door, with the wheel to open it vacant from where it should be.

  
"Definitely something missing here," Henry stated, looking up at Norman. "You two stay here, I'll go find the turnwheel."

  
With that, Henry turned around and walked away down the dim corridor. You remained still as you watched him leave, sighing softly. Before you could do anything, you felt Norman's clawed hands grip your waist, and you were lowered to the ground with surprising gentleness.

  
Norman sat you down on the ground, propping you up so you leaned back against the wall beside the sealed door. You allowed yourself to relax as the projectionist remained standing in front of you, staring down at your bruised and fatigued form. In response, you closed your eye to prevent yourself from being blinded from his light and instead focused on your breathing.

  
_Had it always been this difficult to breathe?_

  
You could hear faint static sound from Norman's speaker, his projector light dimming enough to allow you to open your eyes without irritation. Your eyelids felt rather heavy, and the hallway seemed to sway ever so slightly as you shifted your gaze.

  
_Were you always this tired?_

  
Darkness began to creep into the edges of your vision, no matter how hard you tried to fight it away. You could hear the static from Norman's speaker grow in volume, as if he were calling to you. You wanted to answer him, to say something - anything - but you couldn't muster up the strength to do so.

  
_Was your heart always beating this fast?_

  
Unable to summon the energy to neither move or speak, you began to panic. Your breathing increased rapidly as you felt sweat trickle down your temple. Your vision blurred and darkened as your body seemed to fight against your wishes.

  
_What's happening?_

  
Norman's static grew into an alarming cry, but even that failed to get a reaction from you. You could hear a faint pounding noise - was someone knocking on the door, or was it somebody's footsteps?

  
You could hear a voice, but you couldn't tell who it belonged to. Were you speaking? Did Henry come back with the turnwheel? Had Norman learned how to speak? Whoever it was that was talking, you could only make out bits and pieces of what they were saying.

  
"-into shock... hear me? ...awake, don't fall asleep."

  
Your vision was extremely blurry, but your could just make out someone's face. Was that Henry?

  
A warm hand cupped your face, and it was only now that you realised how cold you felt. You could feel yourself falling slowly - or were you being supported? You could hardly tell, but either way, you found yourself lying flat on the ground.

  
"Come on... stay with me, (Y/N)."

  
What a silly thing to say; of course you'd stay. You couldn't move, how could you possibly leave? You were rather tired, however... perhaps it wouldn't hurt to rest your eyes for a bit. You'd still be here, of course. you just needed to sleep.

  
_Sleep... Shleep... Sheep...._

  
You smiled crookedly at the thought, remembering some of what Sammy said during his silly little ritual.

  
_Sheep sheep sheep... It's time for sleep..._

  
You knew there was more, but you couldn't be bothered to remember the rest.

  
You were just so tired...

  
_So tired..._

 

 

Opening your eyes, you found yourself surrounded by inky darkness. You couldn't see anything, and all you could hear was a well of screaming, overlapping voices. There were so many, _so many_ , that you could barely tell which one was yours. Hell, you could barely tell if you even had a voice.

  
Soon, however, a light seemed to shine in the distance. It was small, but it was there.

  
You slowly began making your way toward the light, the voices gradually getting quieter and quieter the closer you got. As you neared the light, it became more and more apparent that you seemed to be in some sort of tunnel, with ink swirling around and acting as the walls. For a moment, you had the brief impulse to reach out and touch it, but you decided against it, and kept moving on.

  
As soon as you were within arm's reach of the light, you held out your hand to touch it - to feel it's warmth and be free of the voices whispering from the ink behind you.

  
_So warm..._

 

 

Immediately, your eyes flew open and you gasped for breathe, as if you had been trapped underwater and left to drown. Sitting up and panting heavily, you looked around in confusion as you took in your surroundings.

  
Despite the fact that your left eye was, in fact, covered by Sammy's mask, your vision remained inverted. The strange filter that you'd normally see with your injured left eye was also seen through your right; and it was your left eye that could see the world normally - despite the fact that you _shouldn't be able to see_ with the Bendy mask obscuring your vision.

  
Shaking your head and blinking, you removed the Bendy mask completely and looked at the area around you. Without the Bendy mask, your vision was completely filtered through _both eyes_ ; but even so, that wasn't what you were worried about.

  
Henry sat nearby, eyes wide with tears streaking down his cheeks as he stared at you in awe. Norman stood beside him, his dimmed light shining down on you. Despite being unable to convey emotion with his projector head, you felt as though he was in a similar state as Henry.

  
Before you could say or do anything, you found yourself trapped in Henry's arms as he held you close in a tight hug.

  
"Jeez, Henry..." You wheezed out as he squeezed the breath out of your lungs, "You act like you haven't seen me in years."

  
Henry let go, releasing you from his bone-crushing hug. His hands grasped your shoulders firmly as he stared deep into your eyes.

  
"(Y/N), I..." Henry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He remained silent for a few moments, seemingly gathering his thoughts together before opening his eyes once more to stare at you intently. "You really scared us there, do you know what happened? What do you remember?"

  
"Well, I..." You stuttered, trying to reply the recent events in your head. "It's... really fuzzy. I... I remember feeling tired, then I heard voices... and there was a light. Then... Then I woke up here."

  
You looked around as you finished speaking, finding that you were still in the hallway in front of the sealed vault door.

  
"That's all you remember?" Henry asked. You nodded in response, and Henry sighed softly before speaking again. "(Y/N)... You were gone for a long time."

  
"Wait, gone?" You said, unsure of what exactly Henry was trying to say. "Gone where?"

  
"You _died_ , (Y/N)."


	13. A New Prophet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the news of your own recent death, you continue to press onward as you face disappearing mannequins, near-death experiences, the voice of an angel, and your own inner turmoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just wanted to let you guys know that I'm looking for a beta reader (maybe two). If you're interested in helping me out, let me know! My tumblr is @moon--toon

"I... _What?_ "

  
You stared at Henry incredulously, trying desperately to understand what just happened and why your vision was altered immensely. You groaned, closing your eyes and gripping your head with both hands.

  
"No, that... That doesn't make any sense!" You said, looking back up at Henry. "How did I... _Why_ did..."

  
"Here," Henry sighed, wiping away his dried tears and helping you to your feet. "I'll tell you what happened while we walk. How's your ankle?"

  
"It's... fine." You said, looking down at your injured ankle and putting weight on it. "It still hurts to put weight on it, but it's not like it's impossible for me to walk."

  
"Wait, are you sure?" Henry asked, looking down at your right ankle as Norman supported you. "It was broken pretty bad- like, _really_ bad. It should've taken weeks to heal to this point."

  
"Yeah, I'm sure." You said, grimacing slightly as you stood on your right foot. It was indeed painful, but not nearly as much as it was before.

  
"Well, you still shouldn't strain yourself," Henry said, watching as Norman picked you up once more; this time opting to carry you bridal-style. Henry handed you Sammy's mask, which you immediately slipped on.

  
Once the mask was completely covering your face, your vision returned to normal as you looked around. At this point, you didn't even wanna bother questioning what was happening. This studio was too weird; the creatures dwelling here were unnatural abominations, and apparently you had just come back from the dead with your broken ankle magically healed. So much was happening, and it was all happening so fast that you just couldn't keep up.

  
You watched as Henry placed the turnwheel into place on the vault door, before turning it and opening the steel door to reveal a large circular room. In the center was a stone Bendy statue, with several ink-covered mannequins posing in front of it. As the three of you entered the archive room, several lights lit up to reveal an overhanging banner reading "he will set us free."

  
Taking a moment to examine your surroundings, Henry and Norman continued forward and Henry spoke.

  
"When I heard Norman scream, I came back as soon as I could." He started, looking through the vast array of bookshelves and safes. "I think you had been running on adrenaline before; and when it wore off, your body went into shock."

  
You simply hummed, your gaze never leaving the inky black mannequins. There was something odd about them, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it...

  
"I'm not exactly a doctor, so I wasn't sure what to do..." Henry sighed, looking down at his axe. "I tried lying you down, I tried to keep you awake, but eventually... You just..."

  
He paused for a moment, eyes clouding over slightly as he replayed the recent events.

  
"You weren't moving, and you weren't breathing." Henry looked up at you, before turning his gaze back to the shelves of books. "And when I checked, you're heart wasn't beating. You were dead."

  
"Well, not anymore I'm not." You stated, "To be honest, I don't wanna question it too much."

  
The three of you fell silent as you came upon another locked door, with a sign saying "private" on the frame above it. Above that sign was several unlit light bulbs, causing you to furrow your brows in slight confusion.

  
Before you or Henry could say or do anything, Norman let out a low garbled groan through his speaker, and pushed a nearby protruding book back into the shelf. At that, one of the light bulbs lit up.

  
"So that's how it works." Henry stated, looking back at you and Norman. "Let's see if we can't find the others."

  
Henry walked around the outermost part of the room, while Norman carried you into the middle section. A tape recorder caught your eye, piquing your curiousity. Norman seemed to know exactly what you were thinking, and walked you closer toward it so you could press play on the audio tape.

  
"They told me I was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Now Joey's going around saying things behind closed doors. I can always tell."

  
You recognised that voice from an earlier recording - back in the Music Department, beside the piano. The woman who voiced Alice Angel... Susie Campbell, if you recalled correctly.

  
"Now he wants to meet again tomorrow, says he has an 'opportunity' for me. I'll hear him out... But if that smooth talker thinks he can double cross an angel and get away with it, well... oh, he's got another thing coming. Alice? Ooh, she doesn't like liars."

  
Well, it certainly didn't take a genius to figure out just who the new "Alice" was.

  
And it didn't take a genius to figure out what you were gonna do to her when you found her.

  
Hearing the sound of a light bulb turning on, you perked up and saw another bulb above the door light up through the bookshelf as Henry found another book. Reminding yourself not to get distracted, you and Norman looked around to find any out-of-place books. Sure enough, there was one just above a nearby Bendy cutout.

  
Walking toward the book, Norman held you securely as you reached out and pushed the book into the shelf, hearing another light bulb turn on with satisfaction.

  
As you did though, you could hear Henry stumble around on the other side of the bookshelves, almost like something had frightened him. Norman caught on quickly, and immediately went around to check on him.

  
"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, watching Henry as he rubbed his temples, almost as though he were trying to soothe a pounding headache.

  
"Yeah, I'm alright." He answered, looking up at you before turning his gaze over to the previous room you had been in; where the mannequins were. "Maybe there's a few that we missed back there."

  
Nodding, Henry and Norman walked back into the first room-

  
Only to find that the mannequins were no longer present.

  
You felt your blood run cold at the thought of those things roaming around freely. If they weren't mannequins, what were they? They definitely weren't searchers of any kind, they would've attacked you the moment you entered the archives if they had been. Not only that, but _where_ had they gone? There were no visible exits besides the locked vault doors - had they simply melted away into puddles?

  
Despite both yours and Henry's concern toward the disappeared ink beings, Norman simply continued to search around for any loose books, paying no mind to the vanishing "mannequins."

  
Deciding to refocus your attention to opening the exit, you gazed around at the shelves, not finding any books that stood out.

  
"All the switches must be in the other room," Henry said, not bothering to verbally acknowledge the absence of the bodies of ink as he turned to return to the other room.

  
Sighing softly, you rested your head against Norman's chest, not caring about the ink getting stuck in your hair or staining your skin. You remained silent as you heard Henry shuffle around, with another light bulb turning on. Norman slowly carried you back into the other room, watching as Henry located the final book.

  
With the final light bulb lit up, the door unlocked itself. The three of you approached it, only for it to open by itself. Your golden eyes widened as you looked around at the hanging cages and the gaping abyss below. Ink flowed from open pipes like waterfalls into the deep darkness, but Norman seemed indifferent to it all as he turned to walk up the wooden platform to the right. Henry followed close behind, allowing Norman to lead the way. He came to a halt once he approached what looked like a pulley mechanism to traverse the chasm.

  
"We can get across here if we can find a way to fix this," Henry stated, examining the contraption. "It looks like it's missing a cogwheel here. If we can find one of those, we can get this up and running in no time."

  
Norman turned away from the machine, and turned his light to another contraption stationed nearby. It appeared to be a dispenser of some sort, with the label "GENT" on it. Before you could wait and figure out what the dispenser was for, Norman turned once again and started walking down an adjacent corridor, holding you close.

  
He carried you past a hallway with open safes on both walls, before turning right to enter a room with a giant pipe spanning from the floor to the ceiling.

  
Placing you down gently beside the doorway, Norman approached the pipe and circled around it, his light remaining fixed on it. It was as though he needed something from it, but couldn't figured out what to do with it.

  
Looking around the room yourself, you found a lever stationed directly above where you sat. Curious, you strained to reach up and grasp the handle of the lever, and pulled it down. As soon as the lever was pulled, you heard a rumbling noise coming from the giant pipe.

  
Turning your gaze back over to the pipe, you watched as the upper half slowly rose up, revealing a well of bubbling thick ink in the lower pipe. Norman screeched a bit, almost in delight, before leaning down and plunging his clawed hand deep within the inky pool. He dug around in it for several moments, seemingly looking for something.

  
Eventually, he brought his arm up, holding a large glob of extra thick ink. With the ink acquired, he returned to your side, offering it to you for you to take.

  
You grimaced slightly as you took the wet, gooey lump of ink from Norman. It was slimy and squishy like wet dough, a texture that ink definitely shouldn't have.

  
Once the ink was in your hands, Norman picked you up once again and walked with you back down the hallway where Henry was waiting. He smiled softly as you returned, resting one hand on his hip as the other held his axe. He watched as Norman carried you over to the dispenser, silently holding you over a slot. You were slightly confused, until you realised what he wanted you to do.

  
Dropping the ink into the slot, Norman then positioned you by a button on the right side of the machine. You could see what appeared to be then silhouette of a coffee mug above the button, before you pressed it and the picture rotated to a symbol of a gear. Before you could press the button again, Norman then walked you over to the left side of the machine, where a crank was stationed.

  
Turning the crank, you watched as the slot on the front closed, and within a few moments a cogwheel was spat out from the bottom of the dispenser. You and Henry stared at it for a few brief moments, before the former animator stepped forward and picked it up off the earthy ground.

  
"Huh..." He said, looking over the very solid and not-inky cog. "I guess that works."

  
Carrying it over to the pulley contraption, he placed the cog into it's spot and pulled the lever. The three of you waited patiently as a flimsy-looking basket was pulled towards you, then stopped once it arrived.

  
"I don't think this thing will be able to support all of us..." You muttered, looking from the wooden basket to Henry.

  
"Yeah, let's go one at a time." Henry said, climbing into the basket, "I'll go first, then you, then Norman."

  
Thinking about it for a moment, you shook your head in response.

  
"I think I'll go last. If this thing breaks down, I'd rather it be me who gets left behind."

  
"What? Why?" Henry asked, looking back up at you as he stood in the basket.

  
"Henry, look at me." You answered, gesturing to yourself, "I can barely walk, and my eyes are messed up. At this point, I'm more of a liability than anything."

  
Suddenly and without warning, Norman screeched and tossed you into the basket with Henry. Before either of you could say or do anything, Norman flipped the switch on the contraption and watched as the basket carried you two to the other side of the chasm.

  
Sitting up, you looked back at Norman in astonishment.

  
"What the _hell_ , Norman?!" You shouted, to which he simply waved a clawed hand at you in response. You groaned, rolling your eyes as Henry chuckled.

  
"That's just his way of showing that he cares," Henry said as you reached the halfway point to the other side.

  
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." You muttered in response, staring at the door you were headed towards.

  
Luckily, both of you made it to the platform with no issues. You managed to stand up, leaning heavily on a flimsy wooden safety rail located beside the contraption. Henry pulled the lever, allowing the basket to return over to Norman, who was waiting patiently for his turn on the other side.

  
You watched as Norman stepped into the basket, and Henry pulled the lever once again. With the lever pulled, the basket gradually made its way back over to you and Henry.

  
As you waited, you shifted your weight slightly to accommodate your injured ankle. The moment your weight shifted, however, the wooden rail you were supporting yourself on broke, causing you to stumble and fall forward toward the dark abyss. Your voice caught in your throat as your heart lurched in your chest; but before you could even scream, you felt a hand grip the back of your shirt and catch you before you fell to your second death.

  
Yanking you back onto the wooden platform, you collapsed on the ground as Henry knelt over you.

  
"Are you okay?" He asked, obviously shaken from the possibility of losing you a second time.

  
"Yeah, I just..." You panted heavily, trying to calm your racing heart. "I was just testing gravity, is all."

  
"Well, you should be more careful next time," Henry replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'd hate for you to die on me again."

  
Before you could give Henry a snarky response, you heard the nearby machine lurch. Sitting up, you watched as the basket stuttered and stopped with Norman still inside. He was only a few feet away - _he was so close!_

  
You stared in horror as a cable on one of the pulleys snapped, causing the basket to plummet downward into the giant chasm. Norman let out a loud mechanical screech, jumping up from the basket and reaching out to grab the platform.

  
_He won't make it._

  
With alarming speed, you rushed over to the edge, ignoring the burning pain in your ankle. Acting fast, you managed to grab hold of Norman's forearm. Unfortunately, he was much heavier than you thought - and instead of pulling him up, he started dragging you down.

  
You felt Henry grab hold of your legs with an iron grip as you once again came close to falling over the edge. Whimpering, you held on to Norman tight with both arms as Henry managed to keep you from plummeting to your doom.

  
"(Y/N), I don't know if I can pull both of you back up..." Henry said, groaning out as he strained himself to keep you safe.

  
"I won't let go!" You shouted, tears threatening to fall from your glowing gold eyes.

  
_No_. You wouldn't lose anyone else. You _couldn't._

  
Looking around, you searched for anything that could help you get out of this situation. Turning your gaze to your left, your eyes landed on the stray cable hanging from the machine.

  
Maybe if you could swing Norman over so he could grab it...

  
"Henry!" You called out, praying that your plan would work. "I need you to swing us to the left!"

  
"Uh... Okay...!" Henry answered, obviously confused at your request. Nevertheless, he began swinging you side to side, getting closer and closer to the cable with each swing.

  
"Alright, Norman..." You spoke firmly as he stared up at you with his shining projector light. "As soon as I let go, I need you to grab that cable. Do you understand?"

  
Norman looked over to the snapped cable, then stared back up at you before nodding his projector in understanding.

"Okay, on the count of three..." You started, waiting for the right moment to let go. Your heart was pounding so hard, you swore that it would break through your rib cage.

  
_Bump-bump_

  
"One..."

  
_Bump-bump_

  
"Two..."

  
_Bump-bump_

  
"Three!"

  
Releasing Norman at the height of your swing, you watched as he reached out for the cable...

  
And grasped in tight within his clawed hands.

  
Taking a deep breath to soothe your nerves, you allowed Henry to pull you back up. Standing up, you forced yourself to ignore the pain of your injured ankle as you both rushed over to help Norman up from dangling over the bottomless pit.

  
Grabbing hold of the broken cable, you and Henry began pulling Norman up with all your might. You were both tired, but the imminent threat of losing another friend forced you to keep working through your exhaustion.

  
As soon as Norman's hands grasped the edge of the platform, both you and Henry were by his side in and instant to help him up. Each one of you grabbed one of his arms and pulled him up over the edge to safety.

  
Once Norman was safe and sound, you and Henry collapsed back on the ground, panting heavily as you recovered from another brush with death. Norman sat between you two, staring at you both as he remained silent. However, even if he was able to talk, you were sure that he'd still keep quiet.

  
"I hate this place." You said between breaths, staring up at the rocky ceiling above.

  
"Yeah, me too..." Henry replied, "I knew I shouldn't have come back."

  
"Well, you did anyway," You stated, sitting up and looking over to Henry. "But since we're here, we might as well save Boris and send that so-called angel to the grave."

  
As you said that, Henry sat up and looked over at you. Norman stood up as well, getting ready to pick you up once more.

  
"You plan on killing her?" He asked, dusting himself off and grabbing his discarded axe.

  
"Killing her? Oh, no..." You said, staring him right in the eyes with venom dripping from your words. "I'm going to strap her down and tear her insides out. We'll see how _she_ likes having her heart ripped out of her chest..."

  
A visible shiver ran down Henry's spine as Norman picked you up and carried you over to the nearby door. Henry stepped forward, opening the door and walking up ahead.

  
He didn't get far, though. After he took a few steps, he stopped and stumbled back as if someone had popped up and spooked him. As he stepped back and rubbed his eyes, You decided to speak up.

  
"Are you okay there, Henry?" You asked.

  
Blinking a few times and looking back up at you Henry simply nodded.

  
"Yeah, I guess I'm still shaky from you two almost dying." Henry sighed, before continuing forward. "Come on, let's keep going."

  
As you continued down the corridor, you soon came upon a long shaft with a winding wooden staircase leading upwards, and several chains in the center. As you entered the new area, Alice's voice spoke up over the PA system, instantly sending you into a state of anger and irritation.

  
"I see you there, my little errand boy. Your angel is always watching."

  
God, just hearing her voice pissed you off to no extent.

  
"What is it that keeps you going? Is it the thrill of the hunt? The thirst for your freedom? The aching need for revenge?"

  
Clenching your jaw, you remained silent as Norman carried you up the flights of stairs, Henry keeping close by your side.

  
"Or perhaps... You're just looking for a little, friendly, wolf..."

  
Growling, you dug your fingernails into the palm of your hands as Alice laughed and mocked you. Oh, she'd better hope to the high heavens that you never got your hands on her...

  
"Better hurry errand boy. Boris is having trouble staying in one piece."

  
As Norman and Henry walked forward, you saw a promotional poster for Alice Angel plastered on the wall. Glaring at the poster, you slipped out of Norman's arms and stomped up to the poster. It was easy to ignore the pain shooting up your leg as you tore down the poster in a rage-induced state.

  
"You'd better believe you'll never see heaven!" You shouted at the top of your lungs, knowing full well that she'd hear you. "Because I'm sending you on a one-way journey straight to _hell!_ "

  
Henry and Norman stared at you in silence, the only noise to be heard being the cranking of the chains through the shaft. Henry stepped forward cautiously, obviously concerned for your well-being. Before he could get close to you, however, you turned away and continued walking up the wooden path despite your injury.

  
Your anger cooled slowly; enough for you think clearly, but not enough to listen to Henry when he asked you to slow down, and if you were alright.

  
Eventually, you came to the top of the shaft and you reached am open room with two sofas and a Miracle Station inside. A gramophone sat on top of the nearest sofa, playing a soft yet familiar tune.

  
"(Y/N), you shouldn't strain yourself-"

  
"Shhh." You said, interrupting Henry as you heard a voice. Was someone else here?

  
Looking up at a balcony above a nearby door, you watched as an ink-covered person walked by, looking around in what you could only assume was paranoia.

  
"He's... He's gonna find me..." They muttered in a panicked voice, "He always finds me, oh no- I... I just wanna go home! When do we go home? When do we go home?!"

  
In an instant, all your rage and anger was replaced by complete and utter sorrow. You had no idea who or what that was, but you could very much sympathise with them.

  
When would you go home? _Could_ you even go home?

  
"That must've been one of the workers..." You muttered, staring up as the inky being disappeared to the other side of the balcony.

  
Henry merely hummed in response, standing close by your side.

  
"(Y/N)..." Henry spoke, concern lacing his tone. "Are you sure you're alright?"

  
"I'm fine." You stated bluntly.

  
"Look, it's okay... If you're _not_ okay." Henry said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

  
Sighing, you simply shrugged off his hand and walked toward the door.

  
"I just wanna go home..." Was all you could mutter in response.

  
Henry fell silent as he and Norman trailed behind you as you limped forward. Grasping the doorknob, you twisted it and swung the door open-

  
Only for an overwhelming sense of dread and sadness to overcome you. You stared in horror as ink fell from your eyes, hidden by your gnarled Bendy mask. Henry and Norman remained silent as well, unable to say anything as they took in the scene around them.

  
Numerous inky beings crowded the room with sad golden eyes identical to your own. They all kept their gaze turned downward at the ink-stained ground in front of them. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly too a step forward.

  
As soon as you did, all their eyes were on you.

  
Coming to an abrupt halt, your gaze swept over the room as dozens of pairs of sorrowful glowing eyes.

  
Before you, Henry, or even Norman could do or say anything, one of the inky beings stepped forward and spoke in a soft voice - barely above a whisper.

  
"The prophet... The new prophet has arrived!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Norman: This bitch injured, YEET!


	14. Colossal Wonders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Descending further into Bendy Hell, you encounter more than just a couple of lost souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to tumblr user @squeakybendyplush for beta reading!

You stood in complete silence as the numerous inky beings stared at the three of you. They remained still, and despite the apparent lack of a lower jaw, their voices could be heard clear as day. There were so many different voices, and each one overlapped another. It was loud, deafening, and yet you couldn't understand what they were saying.

  
It was too much.

  
Feeling a hand take yours, you looked up to see Henry walk forward, seemingly unaware of the piercing voices of the ink people.

  
"We need to keep moving," Henry stated, dragging you along as Norman followed close behind. You could barely hear what he said, as everyone else was talking much too loud. Did Henry not hear them?

  
You didn't say anything, though, as you allowed Henry to take the lead. The voices swarmed around you - pleading, crying, and begging.

  
They were all lost.

  
Soon, you managed to make it to the other side of the room with no obstacles. The inky beings didn't make any attempts to stop you as you approached a large open ventilation shaft. There were large words written ominously in black ink above the vent.

  
_No angels! He will set us free_

  
A part of you wondered if Sammy had been the one to write it.

  
"It's too dark in there," Henry spoke, grabbing your attention. "I can't see a thing."

  
You hummed quietly, removing your mask and looking into the vent. Sure enough, you could see through the darkness just fine - much like you had before. Putting Sammy's mask away safely into your bag, you turned to Henry and Norman.

  
"I'll be able to see just fine," You said, hoping the voices of the ink people didn't drown out your own voice. "Henry, you stay close behind, and Norman can bring up the rear. Your projector light will make it easier for Henry to see."

  
Henry and Norman both nodded in response. Turning back to the vent, you crawled inside and continued forward as you heard Henry and Norman clamber in behind you.

  
As you crawled forward through the vent, the voices of the ink people slowly faded away the further you went. Up ahead, you could see a closed vent grate that led into another room. Perhaps you could go through there?

  
Crawling forward in silence toward the grate, you voiced a question that had been bothering you.

  
"Why do you think they called me the new prophet...?" You asked quietly, crawling past an open vent to  the left.

  
"They probably just said that because you were wearing Sammy's mask," Henry answered, "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

  
Humming in response, you finally reached the vent grate. Pressing your palm against it, you got ready to push against it and open it up.

  
Before you could, however, the vent became coated in inky tendrils as the ink demon's face jumped up from seemingly no where. He pounded against the closed grate, hissing and snarling.

  
You could hear Henry scramble around behind you, and Norman's speaker emit a low growling static. Despite the frightening situation you were in, you were strangely... calm. You simply watched as the ink demon stared at you through the spaces in the grate, his layered voice speaking directly to you.

  
_I see you there, my little lamb._

  
Running a gloved hand down the grate, you watched as his ink-covered finger raked against the thin steel.

  
_Don't think you can hide from me._

  
Stepping away from the vent, he hissed once more, looking past you at Henry and Norman. His grin seemingly grew wider as he spoke again, turning his blind gaze back to you.

  
_I'll always be watching you..._

  
With that said, the ink demon turned and disappeared from your line of sight, his inky tendrils receding moments later. Even with him gone, you remained unmoving as your golden eyes stared at the vent grate where he had just been. 

  
Perhaps you shouldn't go this way...

  
Sighing, you turned and looked back at Henry and Norman.

  
"Let's go down the other way, I don't think it's a good idea to go through here." You said, looking over at the open vent not too far away.

  
Norman began backing up in response, his claws scraping against the metal of the ventilation shaft. Henry stared at you for a few moments, as though he wanted to say or ask something. Instead, he simply backed up as well, allowing you enough room to crawl through the alternate route.

  
Luckily enough, you didn't have any other interruptions like that. Instead, the ink demon allowed you to continue navigating the air ducts in peace, until you finally emerged into a large open room. You clambered out of the vent, keeping your weight off of your injured ankle and leaning on a nearby wall as you waited for Henry and Norman to follow you out.

  
Once he managed to squeeze himself out of the air duct, Norman turned to you and noticed your apparent dilemma. He was quick to act, and picked you up to carry you once again despite your protests.

  
Henry simply smiled as you crossed your arms and pouted as Norman held you bridal-style. Sighing in defeat, you retrieved Sammy's mask from your bag, and slipped it on before looking around the room.

  
The room was rather big, though not as big as Heavenly Toys was. To the right was a Bendy statue, and to the left was a couch and a steel door, along with a sign reading "Storage 9" beside said door.

  
But none of that was what caught your attention.

  
There was a sign straight ahead, with the words  _"come up and see me"_  written in ink. There was a small arrow as well, pointing up a set of stairs. 

  
Norman and Henry started walking forward, and as they did, you looked up in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you were going. Strangely enough, though, you were met with the abnormal sight of a giant three-dimensional Bendy head with a wide, gaping mouth. You weren't sure if you should laugh or scream, because it looked horrifically hilarious.

  
Upon walking up the first set of stairs, the three of you were met with more writing on the wall.

  
_Almost there_

  
Turning around, Henry and Norman continued to walk up the next set of stairs. Once you arrived to the top, you found that the giant Bendy head was hollow; inside was a table and boards littered with papers.

  
Henry looked around the room, inspecting the numerous papers as your gaze was drawn to the table. There was a three-dimensional model of what looked like plans for a theme park, and another tape recording. Reaching your hand out, you pressed the play button and listened to it as Henry flipped a nearby switch.

  
"For forty years, I've built attractions that stagger the imagination! Colossal wonders such as the world has never seen! I have earned my legacy with sweat."

  
You raised your eyebrow at that voice; you recognised it from an old audio interview you listened to while researching the studio. This man had built a few of the small attractions at Knott's Berry Farm in the early 1920's before he was hired by Joey Drew Studios in 1934, if you recalled correctly. What was his name again...?

  
"But right in front of everyone... High level investors, Wall Street tycoons, the ever-tactless Joey Drew introduces me, the great Bertrum Piedmont, as Bertie! Like I was his child!"

  
_Right._  And now you suddenly remembered why you didn't look too much more into this fellow - his ego was bigger than this studio.

  
"You may be paying me, Mister Drew! But you don't own me! I'll build you a park... bigger than anything  _you_  could ever possibly conceive! But before you go taking any bows, Mister Drew, know that this grand achievement will belong to me, and to me alone."

  
"Well, he sounded like a pleasant man to be around," Henry quipped sarcastically, walking back around the table to stand beside you and Norman. "Anyway, the door down there should be open now. Let's keep moving forward."

  
You nodded in response, and allowed Norman to carry you back down the stairs.

  
To be honest, you felt a bit guilty about him carrying you everywhere. Wouldn't it just be easier for both of you to just... let you walk on your own? Yeah, it'd probably hurt you a lot more, but at least Norman wouldn't be literally carrying your weight.

  
Keeping your concerns to yourself, though, you looked over at the Storage 9 door. Sure enough, it was open.

  
Walking through the door, Henry and Norman stopped as lights flickered on. A large light-up sign was the first thing you saw, with the words "Bendy Land", but "Hell" was written in ink over the word "Land" to give the sign a completely different meaning. 

  
Just below the sign was another one of the lost ink people, comfortably seated atop a cage. For a moment you wondered how they got up there, but you quickly brushed the thought aside and continued examining the massive storage room.

  
"It's like... Some freaky version of Disneyland." You muttered, mostly to yourself. Henry nodded in agreement, before turning and walking down the staircase to the left.

  
Norman followed close behind as you passed by a clock-in, the cheap plywood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You feared that the wood might break beneath your combined weight, but it somehow managed to keep you supported.

  
You and Norman trailed behind Henry as he followed a black cable running along the floor, walking past mounds of burlap sacs and some disturbing looking Bendy-themed trash cans, you soon found yourself in front of a haunted house. Henry stared up at the doors of the attraction, before turning his gaze to a set of four switches located to the right.

  
"This haunted house seems like the way to go, but it's going to need some power." He stated, turning around to follow the wire back to where it led to. A few booths opened nearby, revealing two carnival games with a tape recorder nestled between the two.

  
Henry approached the tape, and pressed play. Once he did, a familiar voice spoke up from the recording.

  
"These guys down in the warehouse get to play games while I'm stuck cleaning up after 'em! They kept locking themselves out of their own back room."

  
You smiled softly at the voice of the janitor. You had to admit, his recordings were definitely the most fun to listen to.

 

"So I says to 'em - Look guys, I says - You're smart, right? Here's an idea! Why not rig these games up to knock open the door if ya win? It'll be fun for you guys, and it'll save me the trip down here every day."

  
So you gotta win the games to open he doors? Simple enough. You always were the best at the shooting games at the local fair, so that couldn't be too hard to beat.

  
"They went for it like a dog to pot roast. I tell ya! If these guys don't start realising who the real genius is, I'm outta here!"

  
Hearing Henry sigh, you looked over to see him staring at the recording for a few moments after it cut off. He must've known the janitor personally - he used to work here, after all.

  
"Are you okay, Henry?" You asked, just to make sure.

  
"Yeah, I'm okay." He said, looking away from the recording and towards the milk bottle game to the right. "Guess I just miss Wally a bit."

  
"Wally?" You inquired, though you already knew who he was talking about.

  
"Yeah, Wally," Henry replied, setting down his axe and picking up the provided balls at the booth. "The guy on the tape, he was a good kid."

  
_A good kid, huh?_  

  
Wanting to give Henry some time to focus on his game, you looked over at the shooting game. 

  
"Hey Norman, could you put me down please?" 

  
As per your request, Norman placed your feet back on the ground gently, taking care to not risk any further injury to your ankle. Thanking him, you then grabbed the provided rifle, and stood in front of the booth. Your chest was faced so your body was turned parallel to the booth as you kept your feet shoulder-width apart. Gripping the rifle and keeping the butt secure against your shoulder, your fired the rifle with ease at the targets, hitting each and every point perfectly.

  
Upon hearing a victory tune from both yours and Henry's game, the door to your left opened up. Henry retrieved his axe, and approached you and Norman.

  
"We'll save time if we split up," He said, "I'll get this one and the third switch, you and Norman can get the second and fourth one."

  
"Okay," You replied, "Sounds good."

  
With that, you and Norman began making your way to the next room. You refused to allow Norman to carry you, instead opting to lean on his shoulder as you walked. It was somewhat awkward, given how tall he was, but you made it into the next room rather quickly.

  
Walking through the open steel doorway, you approached a wooden balcony surrounding a lower level. You saw two doorways, both located on the lower level. Unfortunately for you, members of the mangled Butcher Gang were standing down there, staring at a burning barrel.

  
"Looks like we've got some company..." You said, leaning on the wooden rail, "Without a weapon, I don't think I can do much to-"

  
Before you even finished your sentence, Norman let out a blood-curdling screech as he stomped away towards a staircase stationed on the left side of the room. The three members of the Butcher Gang turned their attention to Norman, and charged ahead to attack. Your eyes widened slightly, as your concern for the Projectionist grew tenfold. Would he be able to handle all three of them alone?

  
Your concerns were soon swept away as you watched Charlie melt into ink the moment Norman landed a single heavy blow with his long, razor-sharp claws. Edgar and Barley soon met a similar fate within mere seconds, melting away into dark inky puddles.

  
Once Norman had finished his task, he turned his projector light up to you before pointing to the left doorway and walking towards the one on the right.

  
_Guess I'm taking the left..._ You thought to yourself, making your way over to the stairs. By the time you made it down the staircase without putting too much strain on your ankle, Norman had already returned from the right hallway.

  
He was quick to return to your side, though, and helped you get to the left hall. Walking past the bonfire and through the doorway, you were immediately met with the sound of someone crying. 

  
As you turned the corner, you found the source of the crying to be another lost ink person, weeping on the other side of a chain link wall. You felt a pang of pity for the inky being, and approached them carefully. Resting your hand on the thin wire of the chain link wall, you spoke in a calm and gentle voice.

  
"Are you alright, my little sheep?" 

  
Wait,  _what did you just say?_

  
Before you could question your own choice of words, the sobbing ceased, and the ink person looked up at you with sad, golden eyes.

  
"Oh... Oh, my prophet..." They murmured. Standing shakily to their feet, they looked down at their trembling hands. "I'm so sorry to have disturbed you... Please, pay me no mind."

  
Turning your gaze from the inky being, you addressed Norman.

  
"You can go on ahead," You muttered, "I... I want to make sure they're alright."

  
Norman seemed to hesitate for a moment, but continued on down the hall nevertheless. Once he disappeared around the corner, you looked back at the ink person.

  
"Is there something troubling you?" You asked, "If there is, I'd like to know if I can help."

  
The ink person remained silent, save for the occasional sob. Keeping their gaze cast downward, they moved their hands to hug their own body, as if they were trying to comfort themself. 

  
"Please, let me help you." You said, leaning into the chain link wall. 

  
"I'm sorry, it's just..." They spoke, their voice barely above a whisper, "It's so cold... and I can't get warm. I'm so tired of being cold..."

  
The sadness you felt from them was suffocating, and caused your chest to ache. You wanted to help, but how?

  
Seeing a small hole in the wall nearby, you managed to slip your arm through, and held your hand out to the ink person.

  
"Take my hand," You said, "Take my warmth."

  
The inky being looked up and stared at you with wide golden eyes, before turning their gaze down to your outstretched hand. Cautiously, like a wild deer, they approached your hand and gently took it in their own.

  
The ink that made up their body was indeed cold - ice cold. You could feel it chilling you to the bone; and as much as you wanted to pull your hand away, you forced yourself to keep it there for their sake.

  
Holding on to your hand tightly, they seemed rather content. They no longer seemed sad as they ran their fingers along the skin of your arm.

  
"Oh... It's so warm..." They whispered, "So lovely..."

  
You could hear Norman's heavy footsteps sound behind you as he returned, the light of his projector focused on you as you continued to comfort the ink person. You paid him no mind as you smiled softly at the inky being, allowing them to hold your hand close.

  
"Thank you..." They said, looking back up at you, "Thank you."

  
With those words you watched as they melted away into a puddle almost instantaneously. Any other time, perhaps such a sight would be frightening. But this time, it felt like you helped that person find solace for the first time in years.

  
Pulling your arm out from the hole in the wall, you turned to Norman and smiled. You could still feel their cold touch on your skin, but it didn’t bother you at all.

  
"Alright, let's get going." You said, turning around to walk back out of the small area. You walked past the bonfire, up the stairs, and back through the entrance to the rest of the storage facility. There was a comfortable silence between you and Norman as you walked by the haunted house, approaching the four power switches. Switch number one had already been pulled, presumably by Henry. 

  
Pulling the second switch, you and Norman then began following the wire of the fourth power switch.

  
"I wonder how Henry's holding up..." You said, not expecting a response. You were well aware that Norman couldn't talk, but you felt the need to voice your thoughts anyway. 

  
Soon, you approached an open doorway with the sign reading "Maintenance" above the door frame. Inside, there were several posters featuring Bendy in a train, and a few inky messages written on the wall. None of them seemed very important, as every word written was "choo choo" to stick with the theme of trains.

  
Continuing onward, you walked through a vault door, paying no mind as it shut itself behind you. As you walked forward, you entered a small space with a Miracle Station, and a poster reading "Ride the Buddy Boris Railway!"

  
But, if you listened carefully, you could hear the soft tune of a piano with a wonderfully beautiful voice singing along. It was far away, and although you feared it might be Alice for a moment, you soon realised that the voice was too low - too masculine. Who was singing?

  
Turning to the hallway to the left, you followed Norman down into an ink-flooded room with two large train engines inside. Upon entering, the voice stopped singing and allowed time for the piano to continue on with a solo.

  
Wait, you recognised that tune.

  
Mentally rehearsing the notes in your head as you listened, you were shocked to find that it matched one of your own written songs. In fact, it was the very same song you had written while imprisoned by Sammy - albeit a bit altered and improved upon. But how...?

  
Walking forward and sloshing around in the ink, you tried to pinpoint where the music was coming from. But the moment you made any kind of movement, it ceased abruptly, leaving you at a loss.

  
You stared up at the balcony surrounding the pit of ink you stood in, looking for any signs of movement. Unfortunately, you found nothing. Sighing in disappointment, you turned around to face Norman. No point in searching for something that's not there anymore.

  
"C'mon Norman. Let's find that switch." You said, walking down the right side of the room. You could see some sort of lever up ahead, maybe that was it? Before you could reach the lever, however, a voice spoke up that caused you to come to a sudden halt.

  
"Welcome back, my little lamb."


	15. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down in the darkness of the Maintenance area, you find someone you weren't expecting to see again.

Coming to an abrupt halt, you slowly turned around to face the one who spoke. Eyes wide in disbelief, you couldn’t help but let your jaw drop at the unmistakable sight of one whom you thought to be dead.

 

“Sammy…?” You spoke softly, voice barely above a whisper. He looked much different than he had before; his anatomy seemed to be more that of a fit, young adult man than that of a stiff noodle. His suspenders no longer defied gravity, and instead rested comfortably on his broad shoulders. He wasn’t currently wearing a mask, but his face still lacked any noticeable features.

 

That is, until Sammy grinned, showing off a set of sharp, shark-like teeth. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine at the sight, unsure of what to think or what to say.

 

Luckily, Sammy was the first to break the silence.

 

“I see you’ve come to return my mask to me,” He said in a soft, welcoming tone. His voice was still as warm and silvery as you remembered, but there was still something… off about him. Unable to decipher what it was, you watched him carefully as he stepped forward slowly. “You’re very kind, little lamb,” He spoke once more.

 

You remained as still as a statue as he lifted his four-fingered hands and ever-so-gently lifted the mask from your face. Keeping quiet, you merely watched as he removed the gnarled Bendy mask from your head, and placed it over his own instead.

 

“I know you must not be accustomed to the Ink Demon’s blessing,” Sammy said, placing a “comforting” hand on your shoulder and ghosting his inky fingers over the black scar over your eye. “But you mustn’t reject his gifts - to do so is blasphemous.”

 

At that, Sammy stepped back, and looked up to Norman. The Projectionist had remained off to the side, silently watching as you reunited with you lost uncle, who seemed to have returned to his occultish ways.

 

“It’s good to see you again, Norman.” Sammy said, tilting his head slightly. Norman simply let out a low groan from his speaker in response.  At that, Sammy walked past the two of you toward the lever you had seen earlier.

 

“Come now, my dear lamb. We have much to do now that you’re here.”

 

You watched as Sammy pulled the lever, and the sound of moving chains echoed nearby. So that wasn’t the power switch…?

 

“I thought you were dead.” You spoke abruptly, unable to remain silent any longer.

 

Yes, you were most certain that he had died. His heart had been torn from his chest by Alice, and he melted away in your arms.

 

That was something that you’d never, _ever_ forget.

 

Sammy remained still and unmoving for several moments, before looking back at you with his masked gaze.

 

“My sweet, naive lamb…” It was hard to see, but you could just see him grinning behind his Bendy mask. “No one ever truly dies. Here, we will always be reborn from the puddles like a phoenix from ash. I expected _you_ of all people to know that, (Y/N).”

 

At that, he turned and continued walked off to the left. You looked up to Norman, who simply shrugged and followed Sammy through the ink-flooded area. You let out a huff, and followed as well - trying your best to ignore the throbbing pain from your ankle. Looking up at Sammy, you saw him walking up a set of stairs that led up to the balcony overlooking the train engines. You couldn’t help but notice that he actually had feet now; a detail you hadn’t seen before as they had been submerged underneath ink.

 

It was rather strange, seeing him with proper anatomy. You had grown rather accustomed to his unnatural lanky appearance from before.

 

Norman waited for you patiently at the bottom of the stairs, his projector light focused on you as you approached. Normally, the bright light would irritate your eyes and make it difficult to see, but you found that it was perfectly fine with your altered vision.

 

Perhaps this _was_ a gift after all…

 

Once you reached the staircase, Norman stepped forward to help you. Without warning, he grabbed you beneath your arms and lifted you up so that your feet couldn’t reach the ground. Keeping you suspended above the wooden steps, he ascended to the upper level, and set you back down softly once you both reached the top.

 

“Thanks,” You said, smiling up at Norman gratefully. As much as you insisted on not being treated like a baby, you truly appreciated Norman’s kindness.

 

Looking around briefly, you saw Sammy walking around to the other side of the balcony, where a camera, cutout, and piano were located. If you looked carefully, you could also see an axe leaning against the wall beside the piano. You glanced back at Sammy warily, but followed him nevertheless.

 

Norman trailed close behind you, ready to support you when necessary. As you walked, you passed by a power switch located on the wall. Perking up, you went to pull it - only for an inky hand to grab your arm before you could reach it.

 

“Now, what purpose would you have in the haunted house?” Sammy spoke, his voice sounding much too close for comfort. Turning your gaze to him, you found him standing right beside you - even though he had been several feet away just a moment ago.

 

“I…” You spoke nervously, unsure of how he would react. He was clearly unstable, perhaps even more now than when you had first met.

 

Sammy simply tilted his head slightly as you stumbled over your words. You were frozen, afraid of what he may do to you if you answered wrong.

 

Norman let out a low groan from his speaker, as though he was warning Sammy and reminding you that he was still there.

 

That’s right, Norman was there. He has supported you throughout your entire time down on Level S, and there was no way he’d allow Sammy to harm you.

 

Grounding yourself and standing up straight, you took a deep breathe to settle your nerves as you spoke.

 

“I’m going to save Boris.” You stated evenly, your voice firm and confident. Sammy hummed in response, tilting his head the other way in thought.

 

“Ah, yes… that fool went and got himself captured.” He muttered, seemingly to himself. “I remember now…”

 

Upon hearing that, your expression brightened up.

 

“Will you help us?” You asked, your voice giving away your enthusiasm.

 

Had he remembered everything? Did he remember who you were? Who Henry was?

 

“Help you? Goodness, no,” He let go of your arm and shook his head. “That wolf is long gone, little lamb. The False Angel would have torn him to pieces by now."

 

“What?” Your brightened mood immediately dropped as you heard his words.

 

“Boris is gone, your quest to save him is in vain.” Sammy turned around, and began making his way back over to the piano. “But if you’re lucky, he may return from the puddles.”

 

You remained unmoving while Sammy paused and looked back at you, as if he were waiting for you to follow. Instead, you clenched your fists in anger and snapped at him.

 

“If you won’t help us save Boris, fine! I’ll save him by myself if I have to!”

 

As you gripped the lever on the switch, Sammy lunged forward to stop you.

 

“Wait, don’t-!”

 

Pulling the switch before he could reach you, you watched as the entire room was sent into inky darkness. Even with your improved vision, you couldn’t see a thing.

 

Nothing but silence could be heard as the darkness slowly faded, only to reveal that both Sammy and Norman had disappeared.

 

_Where did they go…?_

 

Stepping forward and looking around, you hissed slightly at the stinging pain in your ankle.

 

“Norman…?” You called out, concern lacing your tone as you searched for the missing Prophet and Projectionist. “Sammy? Are either of you there?”

 

Suddenly feeling rather cold, you brought your arms up to hug yourself in a vain attempt to keep warm as you shivered. Limping around the balcony, you started making your way over to the axe - a weapon would be sorely needed, especially if you couldn’t find Norman soon.

 

“Sammy!” You yelled out once again, “N-Norman! Where… Where are you?!”

 

You felt inky tears begin to well up in your eyes and fall down your cheeks.

 

 Why did they disappear? They had to be around somewhere…

 

“Sammy! Norman!” You screamed out their names at the top of your voice, hoping that they’d hear you.

 

Finally reaching the axe, you grabbed it with a trembling hand and placed it into your bag. God, you couldn’t stop shaking. _Why was it so cold all of a sudden?_

 

Your ink-stained tears felt as though they froze to your cheeks. The soft golden glow from your eyes dimmed as you tried to blink them away, only for your attempt to prove futile.

 

This sudden sense of isolation was much worse than dealing with your crazed uncle. It had only been a few moments since he and Norman disappeared, and you only grew more and more anxious the longer they were gone.

 

You wanted to see Norman. Hell, you wanted to see your uncle. You didn’t care if he was insane, you didn’t care if he led some crazy cartoon-worshiping cult. You would gladly join him if it meant being with him again.

 

Letting out a pitiful sob, you forced yourself to keep moving on. Maybe you could at least find Henry. Maybe you could still save Boris…

 

Slowly limping toward the staircase, you continued calling out for your missing friends.

 

“Norman…! S-Sammy…!”

 

Breathing on your hands to keep your fingers from freezing, you walked past the power switch. It didn’t take long for you to realise that your sanity was slipping away - perhaps this was similar to how Sammy lost his mind?

 

“Norman… Sammy…”

 

Finally reaching the stairs to the lower level, you took one tentative step down - before crumpling and falling down the wooden steps into the ink below.

 

Your body ached as you remained motionless in the pool of icy cold ink. Every part of your body hurt, and you felt as though you were chilled to the bone. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to be alone…

 

Closing your eyes, you listened to your surroundings as you allowed the ink to overtake your body and crawl over your skin.

 

It was very faint, but you could hear… music?

 

Yes, that was definitely music. The kind of music that would be played while one was on a ride at a carnival; along with the unmistakable sound of working machinery, grinding gears, and puffs of steam.

 

And beneath it all, you could hear someone.

 

Someone who sounded like they were in distress; like they were fighting for their life.

 

 

Henry.

 

_The Creator._

Opening your eyes, you forced yourself to stand despite your cold, injured body. No, you weren’t entirely alone yet. Henry was still there, Henry was still fighting.

 

The ink clung to your skin and weighed you down as though it was trying to pull you back down into the flooded floor. You forced yourself to press on, to keep moving forward through the sea of black ink. You had to help Henry. You had to save Boris.

 

“Henry…” You muttered, your voice sounding hoarse as you spoke. “Boris…”

 

Suddenly, you heard a familiar hiss as the walls became coated in dark inky tendrils. You came to a sudden halt, and watched as Bendy’s monstrous body appeared through a black mass in the wall.

 

Your heart fell as you watched him approach, his grin seemingly growing wider the closer he got. You wanted to run, but you knew that running was futile.

 

There was no escaping the Ink Demon this time.

 

_There you are, my little lamb…_

 

Allowing the ink to drag you down, you collapsed to your knees as Bendy stopped in front of you. His clawed hand caressed your face with surprising gentleness, tilting your head up so you could look up at him.

 

_Are you afraid?_

 

The question was rhetorical. Of course you were afraid - you were terrified beyond belief.

 

Bendy was about to speak once again but, much to your surprise, he was interrupted by a familiar ear-piercing scream.

 

Your eyes widened as Norman came out of seemingly nowhere, raking his claws across Bendy’s rib cage and putting himself between you and the Ink Demon.

 

“Norman?!” You gasped, finding your voice. Before you could say or do anything else, a pair of arms picked you up out of the pool of ink and carried you away with haste. 

 

The owner of those arms was none other than Sammy Lawrence, who ran past Bendy and Norman toward the exit.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking down at you with his masked gaze. Snapping out of your initial shock, you nodded.

 

“Y-yeah, but…” You craned your neck to look over Sammy’s shoulders, back at the Ink Demon and The Projectionist. You had many questions, but your main concern right now was…

  

Time seemed to stop as your eyes widened in horror. Bendy lifted Norman up by the neck, dangling him in the air as The Projectionist kicked and screamed.

  

_“Norman!”_

 

As his name left your lips, the Ink Demon twisted his projector head, effectively snapping his neck.

 

The inky tears returned as you watched his body fall limp. Bendy gripped the projector tightly, before pulling it off Norman’s shoulders.

 

Sammy started up the stairs, holding you close as you struggled against him.

 

“No, Norman!” You screamed and cried, trying to get Sammy to let go. “We can’t- we have to-!”

 

Remaining silent, Sammy opened the door to the Miracle Station and squeezed both you and him inside. Closing the door, he held tightly onto your weakened body to prevent you from leaving.

 

“Let me go, Sammy!” You growled, struggling against his iron grip. He said nothing in response, and instead held on tighter.

 

Upon realising that escape was futile, you turned your gaze to the slot in the door, watching as Bendy’s inky tendrils came closer until his body was fully visible.

 

The Ink Demon walked by, pausing only for a moment to lean down and sneer at you. You glared back at him, golden eyes burning bright as cold inky tears stained your cheeks. He dragged Norman’s body along with him by the ankle, leaving behind a black trail of inky blood. 

 

Once Bendy had left your sight and his tendrils of ink disappeared, Sammy opened up the box and allowed you to step out. He exited the Miracle Station as well, lingering behind you as you stared down at the smeared ink on the wooden floor. Both of you were dead silent as you cried tears of ink and shivered at ice cold feeling of your own ink-drenched body, until you finally spoke in a defeated, shaky voice.

 

“Why…?”

 

You turned your golden gaze to Sammy, staring at his masked face as he quietly tilted his head in question.

 

“Why is all of this happening?” You cried out, bringing your frozen hands up to clutch your head. “Why did you disappear? How did you come back- why are you suddenly so normal!? Just a second ago you believed that Bendy was a god and now you’re just… _Okay!?_ ”

 

Sammy sighed softly before stepping closer to you and placing his hands over yours, lowering them away from your head and gazing down at them himself. Looking down at them yourself, you noticed that the skin visible through the ink that coated your body was distinctly blue - and Sammy’s hands were strangely… warm.

 

“This isn’t good…” Sammy muttered, “We need to get you someplace warm.”

 

At that, he picked you up and carried you out the broken metal door towards the main storage area. You were about to speak up once again, but Sammy interrupted you.

 

“When you pulled that lever, everything went black.” He started, “I don’t know where I was. It wasn’t the puddles, that’s for sure… But while I was there, I remembered things. Lost memories that had been long, long forgotten…”

 

As he exited the maintenance hall, he paused for a moment and looked to you.

 

“I remembered everything that happened before Susie sent me back to the puddles.”

 

He remembered you.

 

Walking forward again, he made his way around the stored attractions and paused again near some Bendy-themed trash cans. He carefully set you down on the ground, keeping you propped up against the frame of wooden scaffolding. He then took off the lid of the garbage can and looked inside before he turned away to grab some nearby pieces of plywood and cardboard, dropping them into the trash can.

 

“Both Norman and I came back not long after the Ink Demon arrived.” Sammy continued, picking up two rocks from off the ground and holding one in each hand over the wood. “Norman was quick to act, of course. You seemed to mean a lot to him, even if you only just met recently.”

 

You simply nodded, watching as Sammy knocked the stones together. He did so several times, until sparks flew and landed on the wood. Within a few moments, there was a small, flickering flame inside the metal trash can.

 

Sammy stepped back, and looked to you.

 

“I think he knew he wasn’t going to win that fight.” He said in a solemn tone, “No one can win against the Ink Demon, not even someone as strong as Norman.”

 

Once the fire grew to an adequate size, Sammy approached you once more and leaned down beside you. He propped your arm up over his shoulder and gripped your waist, much like you had when he fell unconscious back in the Music Department.

 

That seemed so long ago…

 

Supporting you as you both stood up, Sammy guided you closer to the warmth of the fire, and allowed you to lean on him as you remained there.

 

“I’m sure we’ll see him again soon,” Sammy spoke softly in an attempt to comfort you. “He never liked to stay in the puddles for long.”

 

You simply hummed in response, and allowed the gentle heat of the fire to warm your frozen skin. There were more questions that swarmed your mind, there always was. But you remained silent, not bothering to voice your clouded thoughts. You were still rather shaken from the recent events, and you needed to give yourself time to relax and recover from everything that had happened.

 

Moments later, you heard footsteps approaching the two of you. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

 

“Sammy…?” Henry asked as he approached, looking from you to your uncle. “Where’s Norman?”

 

Neither you nor Sammy said a word. The sullen silence was more than enough to answer Henry’s question, though.

 

Sighing, Henry stepped forward and stared down at the fire from across you and Sammy. His clothes were torn and stain, and his body was battered and bruised. He looked like he was in rough shape - no doubt he ran into trouble as well.

 

It was obvious that he had questions as well, but he suppressed his curiosity and remained quiet. Instead, he smiled softly at your uncle.

 

“It’s good to have you back, Sammy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be on hiatus until Chapter 5. The ending I have planned won't change, but I'd still like to keep this story as close to canon as possible


	16. Bad Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence, (mild) gore

Silence was all that could be heard among the flickering flames of the small fire, which seemed to provide little warmth to your frozen, ink-covered body. Sammy added more wood, and used a thin sheet of metal to fan the flames. It was obvious to him that you were having an awful lot of trouble trying to get warm…

 

“I found the last switch,” Henry finally said after a prolonged silence, “We should be able to get into the haunted house now.”

 

“G-good…” You muttered, shivering heavily as you shuffled closer to the fire.

 

Sammy decided to speak up, however, as he set the metal sheet down on the ground.

 

“I don’t think all of us will make it much further, Henry.”  He said, glancing over at you as he spoke, “(Y/N) isn’t getting much warmer, and they won’t survive if we travel deeper down. We have to go back and leave this place, for their sake.”

 

“I'm f-fine, Sammy…” You managed out, narrowing your eyes slightly as you looked to him.

 

“No, you’re not,” Sammy insisted, focusing his attention on you. No, you were far from fine. The Ink Demon nearly took you away, and now you’re at the risk of freezing to death. “Do you realise how close you were to dying again? To being dragged into the ink, to becoming one of _us?_ ”

 

“We can’t just- we can’t just leave Boris behind!” You said, raising your voice as you shivered and trembled.

 

“How long has it been since the angel kidnapped him?” He sighed, looked from you to Henry, “Two hours? Three? He’s probably already been dissected and killed.”

 

Boris was doomed the moment Susie had taken an interest in him. He was long gone by now, probably already being re-printed by the ink machine. Their best bet now was to cut their losses, and escape the studio before you and Henry joined Norman in the ink puddles.

 

“…No.” You said firmly, causing Sammy to turn his gaze back to you. “No, we’ve come too far now! We can’t go back now!”

 

“Sammy’s right.” Henry spoke up before Sammy could react, “Maybe we should focus on getting out. I don’t wanna risk you dying again – you might have come back once, but there’s no guarantee that that’ll happen again.”

 

You remained quiet at his words, turning away from both Sammy and Henry without a word. Your body continued to tremble, causing Sammy’s concern for you to grow.

 

Finally, you decided to speak.

 

“Even if we all wanted to go back, we can’t.” You said softly, looking back at Sammy, “The bridge across that chasm is broken, and we sure as hell wouldn’t be able to use the elevator up.”

 

“There’s a staircase that leads up to Level 9 nearby,” Sammy answered, stepping forward and placing a hand on your shoulder. He gently led you closer to the fire, hoping to warm you up quick. “We can get to it through the vents. We can get to the Music Department from there; hopefully the exit hasn’t flooded again.”

 

“Even if it has, we’ll know how to drain it.” Henry pitched in optimistically.

 

Sammy looked from Henry to you, waiting for a response. Finally, you sighed, and spoke up.

 

“It’ll be a long trek up…” You muttered, “We’ll have to be careful; I doubt the Ink Demon will let us leave so easily.”

 

“Will you be okay to walk?” Henry asked, adjusting his grip on his axe.

 

“I’ll be fine…” You said, smiling softly before looking up at Sammy, “We should get going now. The sooner we leave the better.”

 

Sammy paused, keeping his hand firm on your shoulder. You were still cold, still freezing…

 

“Okay.” Sammy agreed, hoping that you would last until you escaped.

 

Before you started walking, you slipped off your bag – which was now thoroughly drenched in ink. No doubt that its contents were ruined as well, as such, there wasn’t any point in bringing it with.

 

Sammy removed his hand from your shoulder, allowing you to crouch down and open your bag to pull out an axe and a water bottle full of inky water. You grimaced at the bottle, muttering about how “ink must’ve seeped into it somehow,” before leaving it behind and taking only the axe.

 

Once you were ready, Sammy began supporting you to aid you as you walked. You were still frighteningly cold, but strangely enough, you seemed to have become accustomed to it. He said nothing as you limped beside him, with Henry leading the way toward the staircase that would lead back the way you came from.

 

“Oh, leaving so soon?” The angel’s voice sounded over the speakers, causing the all three of you to stop and pause for a moment as she spoke. “I was hoping you’d be able to come in and say hello, but… I suppose we’ll just have to come to you.”

 

_'We?'_

 

Before anyone could question it, there was a loud _“Crash!”_ from the Haunted House. Looking over, Sammy was horrified to see that the doors of the attraction had been busted through to reveal a large, monstrous version of Boris.

 

“Boris!” Henry cried out, staring in horror at what used to be his friend as the angel laughed maniacally, “No, no… What has she done to you?!”

 

“Meet the new and improved Boris!” She said in a triumphant tone. Boris marched forward, making his way towards you three as the angel continued, “I took what I wanted, and in return, I gave him so much more!”

 

Sammy picked you up, and made a run for the doors at the top of the stairs, only to find that they had been locked shut. Henry remained down with Boris, keeping him distracted as Sammy looked for an escape and kept you out of harm’s way.

 

“And this time, there’s no Ink Demon, no escape.” Sammy growled at the angel’s voice, clutching you closer to him as he turned and looked around for any kind of exit. But there were no exits besides the door that you and Henry came from.

 

 

“Boris, tear them apart! Leave nothing!!”

 

Pausing for a moment, Sammy watched from atop the staircase as Henry fled from Boris through the storage unit, sprinting past run-down attraction parts and wooden scaffolding. Sighing, he carefully leaned down, and placed you on the ground.

 

“I need to go help Henry,” He said, keeping his voice level and calm. He couldn’t allow you to see him panic – you were already frightened bad enough. “You stay here, alright?”

 

You nodded, inky black tears falling from terror-stricken eyes as you handed him your axe.

 

Once he took the weapon from you, he ran down the staircase and immediately went to assist Henry.

 

“I don’t suppose you have a plan?” Sammy asked as he reached his side. Boris suddenly stopped his pursuit, the open wound in his chest spurting out thick ink. Henry’s eyes suddenly widened, and he rushed forward, striking his axe blade into Boris’ chest cavity.

 

The brute that was Boris howled, and slapped Henry away with his massive hand. Henry flew back into a pile of sandbags as a result, causing the pile to collapse on top of him.

 

_“That_ was your plan?!” Sammy shouted as he ran over and lifted bags off of Henry to free him.

 

Before he could pry Henry out of the mound of sandbags he was trapped in, a giant hand yanked Sammy away, and tossed him away with impressive force.

 

He collided with a nearby wall with a sickening _“Splat!”_ causing him to cry out and collapse to the ground below. Pain wracked through his inky body for a few moments, but he was back on his feet almost instantly. He was almost glad he was no longer human – the impact would have surely killed him if he were.

 

Looking back up at Boris, he watched as he stopped, more thick ink gushing forth from his open chest. Suddenly, something clicked, and he then realised why Henry had rushed forward so foolishly. That was the only time they had a clear shot at his exposed heart.

 

Before Sammy could move, Boris had recovered from the sudden delay, and marched toward Sammy once more. Ducking away, Sammy retreated to keep Boris away from Henry, who was still struggling to get out from under a few heavy sandbags.

 

Sammy thought he was a safe distance away from Boris, only to watch as he leapt high up into the air, and came crashing down less than a foot away from him. The force alone was enough to send him off him feet, sprawling onto the ground.

 

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he got caught directly underneath him.

 

Upon noticing that Boris stopped once more, Sammy got back to his feet, charging forward and sinking his axe into Boris’s inky heart.

 

Howling out once more, Sammy was knocked away by Boris. This time, however, when he collided into the wooden scaffold, he felt a long, sharp nail deep into his back.

 

The searing pain caught him off-guard, causing him to freeze and drop his weapon.

 

Boris began to approach again, but paused a little ways away to grab the rusty horse made for a carousel. Forcing himself to move, Sammy pulled himself off of the protruding nail, and stumbled away to the side as Boris threw the horse at where he had been a mere split second ago.

 

The fake horse crashed through the wooden pillar, causing the section of scaffold to collapse. Sammy was only lucky to have crawled just far away enough to avoid getting crushed by debris.

 

His body began to fail him. Ink was melting off his body; he was falling apart at the seams once again. If he took any more damage, he would return to the puddles for good. He needed to focus on keeping himself from melting away, but with Boris hovering over him, ready to end him with one final blow, he couldn’t concentrate on staying stable.

 

Looking up, Sammy watched Boris pause, ink spurting forth once more. Clenching his hands into fists, Sammy tried to focus, tried desperately to stay together.

 

Boris stepped forward-

 

And Henry, with miraculous timing, jumped out and landed one final blow to the brute.

 

His axe broke when it made contact, the blade remaining embedded in Boris’s heart. He stumbled backward, before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. Both Henry and Sammy watched solemnly as the brute Boris began to melt away, dissolving into a liquid puddle of ink.

 

Solidifying himself, Sammy stood up, and looked over to Henry.

 

Of course, the nightmare wasn’t over yet.

 

Both Henry and Sammy jumped as they heard you scream out in what they could only guess was agony. Quick to move, they ran over and saw you pinned to the ground atop the stairs. A syringe was embedded through one of your hands while the other was held down by Alice – who had sunk her fingers deep into your right eye socket.

 

Her threats were drowned out by your blood-chilling wails, which sent shivers down Sammy’s spine.

 

Wasting no more time, Sammy and Henry ran forward to help you. Henry, however, crumpled to the ground as he was struck down with a blow to the head by a gent pipe. Sammy whipped around to see another Boris; one with a mechanical arm. The Boris didn’t hesitate, swinging the pipe at Sammy as well.

 

Blocking the attack with his axe, Sammy winced as your screams continued. He had to help you - he had to save you, but this damn dog wouldn’t let him.

 

Swinging his axe in retaliation, Sammy tried to get this Boris to leave him alone, to ward him off and give him time to save you. But he wouldn’t back off, no matter what he did.

 

Soon, your screams went silent.

 

His heart dropped in despair. Yes, it pained him to hear you screaming out in unbearable pain; but it was much, much worse to hear nothing at all anymore.

 

Roaring out in anger, Sammy raised his axe above his head, ready to land a lethal blow to the one who prevented him from rescuing his family. Before he could bring the axe down, however, a sharp pain shot up from his abdomen. Freezing, he turned his masked gaze downward to find a long sharp blade protruding through his stomach.

 

The blade was pulled out, allowing Sammy to collapse to his knees and drop his axe. The ink making up his body began melting, and dripped off his form in clumps.

 

“The one up there is dead,” A familiar, feminine voice spoke from behind him as she walked around Sammy towards Henry’s unconscious body nearby.

 

_No…_

 

_You were dead?_

 

Sammy’s shoulders slumped down as he processed the woman’s words.

 

“(Y/N)…” He muttered, just barely able to speak as he began to lose form. He remained unmoving, even when the Boris raised his gent pipe to end Sammy.

 

“Tom,” The woman spoke, “Leave him, he’ll be dead in a few minutes anyway. I need help with this one; we need to go before the Ink Demon shows up.”

 

The Boris moved away from Sammy, and helped the woman carry Henry away. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything.

 

This feeling was all too familiar.

 

Mere moments after the woman and the Boris had left; black inky tendrils enveloped the area. Sammy continued to remain still as the Ink Demon approached his melting body. He stopped in front of Sammy, remaining quiet for a moment until he spoke.

 

_Have you forsaken me, my prophet?_

 

Sammy remained silent, unable to speak. His hands had melted away completely, and ink beaded down his chest. The Ink Demon brought a clawed hand to his chin, tilting what was left of his head up to look at his masked face.

 

_Worry not, you’ll rejoin your family soon…_

 

It was then that Sammy noticed that the Ink Demon held a very red, very _real_ human heart. Sammy hardly had time to question it before it was plunged into his chest, alongside his own ink-stained heart. He could feel his inky body reform and adjust to the new organ, rebuilding his body as his vision blurred before finally fading to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, hopefully it was worth it!
> 
> Next chapter will (with luck) be posted before Christmas ^^


	17. Inseparable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost, hurt, and confused, you have trouble coming to terms with your new identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! (And happy holidays to those who don't!)

What’s happening?

 

Where are you?

 

…Who are you?

 

All you could see was darkness. You swam in the thick of it as it swarmed your vision and clouded your mind. That one question repeated in your mind on an endless loop as you searched for an answer.

 

Who are you?

 

Who are you?

 

Who are you?

 

Finally, you allowed yourself to silence that question, reaching into your memory to learn about your past. If you remembered your past, you could figure out who you were, right?

 

Except that wasn’t quite right.

 

As you looked back at your life leading up to this moment, you realized that these memories conflicted one another. You remembered having a body made of ink, but you also remembered having a body of skin and bone. You remembered being trapped in a studio for years, but you also remembered entering the studio recently.

 

Were you… Sammy? Was that your name? It was familiar. It sounded right.

 

Or maybe you were (Y/N)?

 

Both names sounded right.

 

You were Sammy.

 

You were (Y/N).

 

In time, the darkness lifted from your mind, and you could see. Blinking, you looked around to find the place where Sammy had died. Several Lost Ones surrounded you, looking down at you with their sad glowing eyes.

 

Upon realising that you were lying down, you sat up and looked at your body. It mostly resembled Sammy’s body, with the stained trousers and ink-based body. The only differences that you could find were your five-fingered hands and, upon gazing at your reflection in a broken shard of glass, the golden eyes identical to (Y/N)’s. Hell, there was even indents in the ink where their scar had been.

 

Wait, didn’t Sammy have a…?

 

Yes, that’s right. Sammy wore a mask, of which now lay on the ground nearby. It must have fallen off when he blacked out…

 

Grabbing the mask, you held it in your hands carefully, staring at the grinning face of the cartoon demon. Some of the Lost Ones tried speaking to you, but you ignored them, too focused on your own thoughts.

 

The Ink Demon betrayed you, lied to you, and played with both of you like you were its toy.

 

It was not a god.

 

You were not its prophets.

 

Standing to your feet, a hush fell over the Lost Ones as you brought the mask down over your knee, snapping it in half. Tossing the broken mask aside, you turned to those who surrounded you in silence, until one spoke up and stepped forward.

 

“What are you?”

 

That question lingered heavily in the air as you hesitated, unsure of what you should tell them.

 

“I…” You muttered quietly, your voice dual-toned, before you spoke again in a clearer voice. “I don’t know.”

 

No, you didn’t know what you were. You knew _who_ you were – you were Sammy and (Y/N). But you weren’t sure _what_ you were. Were you an individual with two souls? Were you two separate beings in one body?

 

You didn’t know what you were.

 

Looking back down at the ground, you retrieved Sammy’s discarded axe and looked around at the Lost Ones around you.

 

You didn’t know what you were, but that wouldn’t stop you from doing what needed to be done.

 

Sammy had watched Henry be taken away by a Boris and an Angel. Now, it appeared that it was up to you to save him from the potential dangers he faced.

 

Walking through the crowd of Lost Ones, you made your way toward the Haunted House. If you went through there, you would be able to go deeper down into the studio where they would surely be hiding. You’d have to be careful of the Ink Demon, of course, but such a being wouldn’t deter you from rescuing the one who had helped you.

 

It may be near impossible to find Henry in such a huge studio; such a task was comparable to finding a needle in a haystack. But that didn’t matter. Sammy’s and (Y/N)’s hopes of leaving the studio were now nothing but an unattainable dream, with the state you were in. You, personally, had all the time in the world to find Henry.

 

You just hoped that he was still alive when you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I managed to write up another chapter before Christmas, though it is a bit short compared to the others... nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I'll be taking a quick break from this fic so I can get some work done on Into Shadows, but the next chapter for this one should be done sometime next month ^^


	18. On The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While searching for your lost companion, you happen upon a room that was recently abandoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this was... really hard to write. But I think it came out really well, so I hope you all enjoy it!

How long had it been since you first started searching for Henry? Days? Weeks? There was no way to be sure, as you had no way to keep track of the time. All the clocks were back up in Heavenly Toys, stored away, never to be used.

 

You wandered the halls endlessly, searching for some sign of Henry or his captors. You were exhausted and tired, but you pressed on anyway. You had to find him, you _had_ to save him. You wouldn’t let another angel try to take his life like she had yours.

 

Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the distant noises of dripping ink, creaking floorboards, and the inhuman gurgling of one of the butchered Butcher Gang members. Gripping your axe tight, you continued moving forward. If it was only the one, you could take care of it with ease.

 

As you walked and the gurgling grew closer, you checked any nearby doors to see if they were unlocked. Of course, you could just as easily break through the doors with your axe, but you simply couldn’t muster up the energy necessary to care enough to do so.

 

Much to your surprise, however, one of the doors was open. Looking around briefly, you entered the accessible room and closed the door behind you; insurance to make sure you weren’t attacked from behind.

 

The room itself was rather large – big enough to be comparable to Boris’ safe house back on Level P. There was a shelf full of empty cans and broken machinery in the corner, with two cots stationed below it next to a table. What piqued your curiosity, however, was the lone cot on the other side of the room, with a piece of cut rope tied to the frame. A large crate was stationed beside the cot, with a tape recorder sitting on top.

 

Ignoring the writing on the walls, you approached the tape recorder and pressed play.

 

“If anyone finds this… my name is Henry... and I'm trapped far below Joey Drew Studios, a man I used to work for.”

 

Your eyes widened as an audible gasp escaped your lips. Setting your axe down on the crate and taking the tape in your inky hands, you sat down on the cot and listened intently to his voice.

 

“There’s crazy stuff going on down here. Monsters… demons… angels… and right now, two of them are holding me prisoner.”

 

You sighed softly at his words. If they were holding him prisoner, then chances are they probably won’t kill him anytime soon. _Hopefully._

 

“…I don’t know how to get out of here, but there’s more. There’s a secret hiding in the shadows – I just feel like I'm being watched. There’s something at work here. If anyone finds this, you must not- hold on…”

 

Henry’s recorded voice was interrupted by noise in the background.

 

“They’re coming back!”

 

And with that said, the recording clicked off, leaving you alone in silence with only the distant noise of the Butcher Gang to accompany you.

 

You stared at the tape recorder for a few moments longer, before setting it back down on the crate and putting your head in your hands.

 

“Henry was here, we’re on the right track.”

 

“But what do we do now? There aren’t any clues as to where he is in here.”

 

“We’ll just have to keep looking. We’ll find him, (Y/N).”

 

Sighing once more, you glanced at the door as you heard the snarling member of the Butcher Gang pass by. You then turned your glowing gaze down to the cot you sat on, taking note of the papers and sketches strewn about. You took the papers carefully in your hands, doing your best not to stain them with ink, and moved them onto the crate before lying down on the cot.

 

“Maybe we should sleep a bit. I'm tired.”

 

Yes, you were both exhausted. You hadn’t allowed yourself to rest ever since you first reformed together.

 

Ever since Henry was taken away.

 

Closing your eyes and placing your hands on your abdomen, you interlocked your fingers together and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to relax.

 

Sammy was right. You’ll find him soon. You were on the right track.

 

Sleep never came; however, as you heard the distant hiss of the approaching Ink Demon, and the gurgling Butcher Gang member was silenced. Your eyes flew open as you sat up and reached for your axe, staring at the door as the Ink Demon’s inky tendrils seeped through the wall, coating half the room with ink.

 

Your hearts pounded within your chest so hard you feared that they would burst through the ink that made up your torso. Your head ached and your panic grew as you heard him creep closer to the door – you could hear him in your head as the inky tendrils closed in on you.

 

He was looking for you.

 

Swallowing thickly, you inched back on the cot to keep yourself as far away from his tendrils as possible.

 

You couldn’t let him know that you’re here.

 

Keeping a tight grip on your axe, you kept yourself pressed back against the wall, hoping that you were out of range.

 

_‘He’s calling to us.’_

 

_‘Don’t listen to him, just block him out.’_

 

Closing your eyes, you felt the aching in your head grow more and more, as though the Ink Demon was scratching at the door of your mind, demanding that he be let in.

 

_‘He’s just trying to lure us out so he can control us, Sammy. Don’t give him that opportunity.’_

 

After a few moments, the aching began to gradually fade away, and upon opening your eyes, you watched in relief as the demon’s inky tendrils slithered away as he passed by the room you were hidden in.

 

You were safe.

 

Once you were sure the Ink Demon was gone, you dropped your axe and allowed it to tumble off of the cot, hitting the wooden floor with a clattering “Thunk!” as you allowed yourself to collapse down onto the cot.

 

That wasn’t your first close call with the Ink Demon. Ever since you set off to find Henry, he’s been searching for you. He’s come too close to controlling you too many times, and if it weren’t for (Y/N) constantly keeping him grounded, Sammy would’ve slipped back into his cultish ways long ago; dragging you along with him.

 

“We can’t keep doing this, (Y/N). _I_ can’t keep doing this. It’s too much for me; I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

 

“I know it’s hard, but we have to keep going. Keep resisting. Keep moving forward. Just… until we find Henry. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

 

“I hope he does. For both of our sake.”

 

Turning over on the cot, you lied on your back and stared at the ceiling as (Y/N)’s voice spoke up.

 

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

 

“Not anytime soon, no. We should be safe for now.”

 

“Do you really still wanna sleep?”

 

“…Not really.”

 

Sighing, you sat up and stood from the cot, looking around the room. It would be best if you stayed put for a bit, just so you didn’t risk running into the Ink Demon again. So, logically, you should investigate this room a bit more, just to see if you could find a clue as to where they might have taken Henry.

 

Examining the writing on the wall, you read over the legible words.

 

_Don’t stay in the shadows for too long. He’ll find you_

 

Duly noted.

 

_Where there’s a light, there’s hope_

 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that one, just because of how cliché it sounded; but it was true nevertheless.

 

Turning to the next set of wall writing, you read over the ink-drawn words.

 

_Level 14 unsafe – don’t let him see you_

 

You suddenly felt a sharp pang in your hearts at the mention on Level 14. That was where Norman was when Sammy found him… Henry’s captors must’ve had a bad encounter with him.

 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him now.” You spat bitterly, smearing ink over the words to blot them out.

 

Looking over the rest of the walls, you found that any remaining writing was illegible and scribbled over with ink. Turning your focus away from the wall writing, you approached the shelves of broken down machinery. You weren’t sure what anything could be used for – Sammy and (Y/N) weren’t exactly mechanics, and by extension, neither were you.

 

“There isn’t much here to investigate…” You muttered with your dual-toned voice. Besides the audio recording of Henry, there wasn’t a lot to go on.

 

All you knew was that Henry had been taken prisoner by an Alice and a Boris, and that he’s trying to figure out what’s going on.

 

Well, maybe now you should try to sleep. Now that your nerves had settled down after being shot by the Ink Demons sudden appearance, you should be able to get the rest that you desperately needed.

 

Walking back over to Henry’s cot, you lied down on your back once more, resting one hand on top of the other on your abdomen. Taking one last deep breath, you slowly closed your golden eyes, and allowed yourself to fall into a dark, dreamless sleep.


	19. Once People

“It’s me, it’s Henry. It’s been a while since I last recorded; I’ve mostly been spending my days doodling, passing the time as best I can…

 

“I heard my captors arguing today. Seems they… still don’t know what to make of me.  I guess that makes sense, because I don’t know what to make of them either.  At times like this, I wish the others were still with me. Sammy, Norman, Boris… and (Y/N), too. I didn’t know them for long – hell, I didn’t realise Sammy and Norman were still here after thirty years.

 

“But… they were good company, and great friends to have. I miss them… I just couldn’t save any of them. But I promise you, I will get out of this studio… if it’s the last thing I do.”

 

_Click._

 

Sighing heavily, you stared at the tape recording. It sat on a small desk, along with several scattered pieces of paper; all of which had been doodled on in some form or another. From pictures that appeared torn straight out of the old Bendy cartoons, to detailed sketches of those Henry had encountered in this studio.

 

Your gaze halted on two pictures in particular.

 

One was a portrait of (Y/N), as they appeared when Henry first met them. No ink stained skin, no scars over their face, and no glowing of the eyes. They were smiling, bright and happy, as they would if one were to take a photo of them.

 

The other was another portrait, this time of Sammy. Sammy, as he appeared before the ink overtook him – before he was condemned to thirty years of torture down in this inky abyss. Henry captured his appearance almost perfectly; from the way his disheveled hair hung around his face to the dimple in his cheek when he smirked.

 

Carefully, as to not stain the paper with your ink, you took the two drawings and folded them up neatly before tucking them away into your pockets. You knew it was inevitable for them to get ruined by the ink, as did the many sheets of Sammy’s music that (Y/N) had collected in their bag. But you felt comfortable keeping them with you, whether or not they got smeared or soaked. It was a gentle reminder as to who you were. The two people who came together to create you – even if it was involuntary and against their will.

 

Glancing over the sketches one last time, your gaze lingered on a few more. Faces that Sammy recognised from his past.

 

Norman, Wally, Thomas, Susie…

 

Sucking in a deep, harsh breath at Susie’s sketched face, you felt a flicker of anger flare up within your chest. A part of you knew that Susie was just as insane and unhinged as Sammy had once been, that it wasn’t entirely her fault; but it seemed that neither (Y/N) nor Sammy could forgive what “Alice” had done to them.

 

Your mind was overtaken by memories of her. Ripping your heart from your chest, forcing her fingers into your eye socket…

 

Neither of them would forget the pain she put them both through.

 

Allowing the ink on your hand to melt enough for a layer of liquid to form on your inky flesh, you brought your fist down over Susie’s drawn face. A sickening _splat!_ echoed through the room you stood in as your hand made contact with the desk the paper sat upon.

 

Solidifying your arm to avoid having it melt away completely, you unclenched your fist and raised your hand from the surface of the page. Bringing your arm back to your side, you stared at the now-soaked drawing in satisfaction.

 

Turning around and gripping your axe with both hands, you walked out of the room and into the hallway that had led you to Henry’s former makeshift prison. The old floorboards creaked under your weight as you made haste toward your intended destination.

 

“We should meet with the Lost Ones,” Sammy said. “They and the Searchers may have seen Henry, or perhaps even his captors. It’s better than wandering on our own and hoping we stumble upon a clue.”

 

“Well, you seem to have already made up your mind,” (Y/N) responded. “Lead the way.”

 

Both fell silent as Sammy led you through the halls, stepping over lost floorboards and ducking under low-hanging pipes as you walked. After a few minutes, you came to a halt at a large gap in the floor, leading down a good several feet into a pool of ink. The hallway continued on the other side of the gaping hole, but you set your sights higher.

 

Looking directly above the ink-filled hole, you saw an open ventilation shaft leading directly up into the wooden ceiling.

 

Heaving a deep sigh, you muttered to yourself in Sammy’s voice.

 

“Now here comes the hard part…”

 

Looking down at the axe you held, you took a moment to think. There would be no way you could make it into the vent holding your axe – you’d need both hands to pull yourself up safely without plummeting down into the ink below. But at the same time, you would undoubtedly need it, should you encounter the Butcher Gang or Henry’s captors.

 

Sighing as a stupid idea popped into your collective mind, you carefully pressed the handle of the axe into your abdomen. You were made of ink; if you were careful, you could probably store items inside your body without it hurting too much. Like a sort of weird hammer-space cartoon characters have.

 

Groaning out as you felt it dig deeper into the ink until it stuck out of your back, you stared down at the axe now protruding out the left side of your stomach. It was incredibly uncomfortable, that’s for sure… but it would have to work.

 

Taking a few breaths, you let go of the axe and took a few steps back from the hole in the floorboards. Staring up at the open vent, you started running forward, picking up as much speed as you could. Then, with all the strength and effort you could muster, you leapt up from the edge of the wooden floorboards, reaching as high as you could to grasp at the open vent. With much luck, you were able to grab hold the far side, fingers hooked over the indent where the vent’s cover would normally be.

 

Clenching your jaw and grinding your teeth together, you started pulling yourself up, trying desperately to reach further into the vent so you could grasp onto the corner inside. You allowed yourself to let out a sigh of relief as you managed to find it and get a sturdy hold.

 

However, that relief was short-lived when the area below you became coated in inky tendrils. Becoming very aware of your rapidly increasing heart rates, you hastily scrambled to pull yourself up into the safety of the vents. You were able to get your head above the inner corner, your torso hanging over the edge as your legs dangled below.

 

“Come on…” You groaned out, both voices giving away your fear and desperation.

 

Just before you could hoist your lower body up, you felt a hand grip your ankle, causing your panic to spike up and your hearts to drop.

 

_Come now, there’s no need to run._

 

Your head began to pound in sync with your rapid heartbeats, and your already-blurry vision began to swim as your focus dwindled.

 

Kicking as hard as you could, you tried desperately to fight against the Ink Demon’s hold. Much to your dismay, he had an iron grip on your leg as he pulled you back down. You finger slid over the steel making up the air ducts, leaving behind streaks of ink as your body fell back down – the only thing keeping you from being pulled away further from freedom being the indent your fingers latched onto once again.

 

Looking down at the Ink Demon, you found him standing on the edge on the opposite side of where you came from. He stared up at you with his ink-coated gaze, able to reach you easily with his height and long arms.

 

There was another voice in the back of your mind, belonging to neither Sammy nor (Y/N), which told you to let go. It whispered, insisting that you submit yourself to the Ink Demon, to become it’s prophet like Sammy had once been.

 

Whimpering, you held onto the vent frame for dear life. No, no – you couldn’t allow yourself to become his puppet. You had to find Henry, you had to save him, and free him from this hell.

 

Unfortunately, your resolve was being drained away. Your arms were immensely sore, your fingers hurt, and the call of the Ink Demon became ever more inviting.

 

However, the blade of the axe protruding from your inky body caught your eye and, with what little sentience and sanity you had left, you formulated yet another idiotic idea. An idea so risky, so insane, that you briefly debated just letting the Ink Demon take you.

 

But of course, now wasn’t the time for such a debate.

 

With all of your might, you pulled and swung the leg the demon held backwards, forcing him to stumble and lose his footing. As he fell forward, you held on tight to the vent with one hand as you brought the other down to pull the axe out from your gut and swing it down on the Ink Demon’s hand.

 

The Ink Demon let out a furious roar as the axe blade dug into his hand, inky blood spilling from his new wound as he lost his grip and fell into the inky chasm below. The inky tendrils followed him down, along with his influence.

 

Not wanting to hesitate much longer, you looked back up and tossed your axe up into the vent before clambering back up yourself.

 

Once you were inside the vent, you collapsed on the steel floor of the vent frame. Exhaustion overtook your body as you gasped and panted.

 

“That was way to close,” Sammy spoke up as your foggy mind was cleared. “We were lucky this time, but there’s no way we’d be able to do anything like that again.”

 

“I know…” (Y/N) said.

 

They were both very much aware of what would happen if you were to encounter the Ink Demon again, and it was only a matter of time.

 

If he found you again, your resolve would fail and you would fall to him. You would become his puppet, and would make you do whatever he commanded. The thought alone terrified you to the brink of tears.

 

You had to find Henry.

 

And you had to find him soon.

 

Rolling over onto your stomach, you willed yourself onto your elbows and knees, and grabbed your discarded axe.

 

Crawling forward, you navigated your way through the vents, following Sammy’s directions as he guided you on where to go and where to turn. You didn’t stop for anything. Not for a break, not for a breather, not even for a moment to think. You had to keep moving.

 

Finally, you found your way to your destination. After what felt like hours of crawling through the ventilation system, you found an open air duct leading to the Lost One’s home.

 

Stumbling out of the vent, you found yourself in a small enclosed area, with boards blocking a large door frame. Gazing through the wooden boards, you found a large empty area surrounded with buildings and a dock located further away.

 

If you squinted, you could see someone on a raft coming in through a tunnel.

 

Stepping back, you swung your axe at the boards, cutting away at them and allowing you to pass through. Stepping out into the open, you stumbled slightly as you trudged forward.

 

You were so, so tired. That one encounter with the demon left you feeling weaker than ever, and having to force yourself to work through your exhaustion only made things worse. You desperately wanted to rest, to regain your strength so that the next time the demon found you, you’d be able to at least go down with a fight.

 

But you had to find Henry.

 

So you continued to push yourself.

 

Ultimately, of course, that was your undoing as you finally collapsed onto the earthy ground below. You could hear the faint sound of footsteps approach, which sped up when they got closer.

 

“Sammy? Is that you?”

 

That voice…

 

Forcing yourself to look up at the one speaking, your eyes widened as your golden gaze landed on Henry. Smiling softly as he knelt down in front of you, you spoke softly in both voices.

 

“You look familiar to me... That face…”

 

Henry’s brows furrowed at your familiar words. No doubt he was confused at the duality of your tone.

 

“Here, don’t strain yourself.” He said softly, rolling you over so that you lied on your back. “You look exhausted, Sammy…”

 

“Yeah, we are…” You muttered, allowing you to relax.

 

Henry was here. He was here, safe and sound, free from his imprisonment.

 

“I'm… guessing it’s not just Sammy in there, huh?” Henry asked, sitting down beside you.

 

“The Ink Demon did… something.” God, how were you going to explain this? “He put (Y/N) and Sammy together in one body. Now… I'm here. Or we. Haven’t figured out pronouns yet.”

 

You could hear Henry sigh at your words, and rest a hand over yours.

 

“Well, whether you’re in one body or two, I'm glad to see you again.”

 

“Yeah…” You sighed, “Us too.”

 

Silence fell between you, though you didn’t mind. Henry was here. You found him. After fighting tooth and nail to save him, you finally, finally found him.

 

“I'm tired, Henry…” You spoke up, breaking the prolonged silence.

 

“I bet.” He replied, keeping his warm hand pressed against your cold inky palm. “You can sleep if you need it. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

 

“No getting kidnapped again?” You spoke in a joking tone, but the question was semi-serious.

 

“If trouble comes, I’ll wake you up.” Henry assured you, “Just get some rest. You look like you really need it.”

 

Not bothering to voice a verbal reply, you simply hummed a quiet “mm-hm” before allowing your eyes to close.

 

Henry was safe now.

 

But little did you know, the fight for freedom was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My best work is done at 1:00 in the morning while I put off doing other work I should do


	20. Not Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting woken up by Henry, you're a little less than pleased to come face-to-face with his former captors.

 Upon feeling something shaking your shoulders, you were abruptly awakened from your peaceful slumber. At first, you wanted nothing but to simply remain asleep, but once you remembered where you were, your golden eyes shot open as Henry called out your names.

 

“Get up, guys,” Henry said, his hands gripping your shoulders. “We’ve got company.”

 

Jumping up to your feet and grabbing your axe, you were immediately ready to defend yourself against the possible threat, whom you feared to be the Ink Demon. Much to your relief, it wasn’t – instead, it was the Alice and the Boris who had kidnapped Henry and imprisoned him.

 

Growling softly, your grip on your axe tightened as they approached. Sammy was less than thrilled to see them, considering what they had done to him when he had tried to rescue (Y/N).

 

“Henry,” Alice spoke, halting a few feet away. “It’s good to see that you’re safe.”

 

“Wish we could say the same for you,” Sammy spoke up; his voice was sharp and his words dripped venom.

 

At that, the Boris narrowed his eyes, readying his gent pipe and stepping forward. You happily returned the hostility, preparing to swing your own weapon in retaliation.

 

Neither of you had a chance to attack, however; as Alice grabbed Boris to pull him back, and Henry held an arm out in front of you to prevent you from moving forward. Turning your gaze over to Henry, you sighed and lowered your axe when you saw the calm disapproval in his eyes.

 

“Easy now you two,” Henry spoke softly, “We shouldn’t be too quick to start a fight. They might be able to help us, after all.”

 

“ _Help_ us?” Sammy hissed as you gripped your axe so tight you thought it’d snap in half. “These two have done everything _but_ help us! How can you expect us to trust them?”

 

“Look, I know that you’re upset with us-” Alice started, but Sammy immediately interrupted her.

 

“Oh no, we’re _well_ past that,” He hissed, “I could choke the life out of you and never bat an eye.”

 

Her eyes widened as the weight of the situation seemed to set in. Taking a step back, her small hand held on tight to Boris’ arm as her eyes looked from you to Henry. Before she could get a word into a response, several Lost Ones and Searchers appeared from the small buildings surrounding the area. They carefully approached the scene before them, tense as they felt the anger and rage radiating off of your shaking form.

 

Brushing away Henry’s arm, you stepped forward with your eyes focused on Alice.

 

“Take care of the Boris,” Sammy said, his voice firm as you commanded the inky beings around you. “But don’t kill him. The angel is mine.”

 

In an instant, Lost Ones and Searchers swarmed around Boris, grabbing onto his body and holding him down. Alice made a meager attempt to help him, but she hardly had time as you swung at her and forced her to defend herself instead of her companion.

 

Sammy acted completely on his own, taking full control of your shared body away from (Y/N) as he attacked Alice. Your golden eyes shined with a bright ferocity as you viciously swung at her, each hit either narrowly missing or getting blocked by her own blade. Fear was evident in her eyes as she was left with no room to counter, being forced to do nothing but defend herself from Sammy’s wrath.

 

You could faintly hear Henry’s voice calling out to you, but you tuned it out as Sammy refused to listen to anyone’s vain attempt to convince him out of destroying his enemy.

 

“ _Come here, and put your face in our axe!_ ” You roared, running after her as she tried desperately to flee.

 

_She’s scared, Sammy._

 

_Good… She should be._

 

As you chased her down through the harbour, a small part of you almost felt bad for her.

 

That part wasn’t on Sammy’s side, unfortunately – and as such, he was able to easily ignore it. Instead, you leapt forward, managing to drag her down to the ground and force her face into the dirt. She struggled beneath you, crying out and gasping as you knocked the wind out of her inky lungs.

 

“Because of you, I couldn’t save them,” Sammy growled, digging your knee into her back as you ground her face into the rocky earth. “Because of you, we became this!”

 

Lifting her head up by her ponytail, you slammed her face back into the ground.

 

“We’re!”

 

_Smash!_

 

“A!”

 

_Smash!_

 

**_“Monster!”_ **

 

You could feel her body fall limp beneath you, and she let go of her sword. The only thing indicating that she was alive was her soft whimpers and raggedy breaths as she clung onto the thin threads of life.

 

Lifting her head up once more, you brought the blade of your axe to her throat.

 

“You wish to be _free?_ ”  He asked, your voice dark and sinister. Pressing the blade against her neck, you made a shallow cut, allowing a small bit of her inky black blood to drip down her pale skin. “Well I’m going to free you now! _Free your head, right off your shoulders!_ ”

 

You could feel her, trembling and shaking as tears of ink began to spill from her wide eyes. Bringing your head down low, Sammy spoke harshly in her ear.

 

“ _Sheep, sheep, sheep…_ ” He muttered, voice low and threatening, “ _It’s time for-”_

 

Before he could finish, a heavy weight suddenly barreled into your side, knocking you off of Alice and holding you down on the ground. Looking up at the one who stopped you from finishing her off, you were shocked to see none other than Henry pinning you down.

 

“Henry!” You cried out in surprise, both voices coming forward as you stared at him in shock.

 

“Sammy, you need to stop!” Henry yelled, his voice shaking slightly, “Both of you need to get a grip! This isn’t you, Sammy!”

 

Falling silent, your heartbeats pounded within your inky rib cage. His dark eyes were wide, and he seemed genuinely afraid.

 

Afraid of _you._

 

A sudden wave of guilt washed over you, mixed with confusion and frustration.

 

“Henry…” Tears pricked your eyes; why wasn’t he angry at her? Didn’t he remember that he had been her prisoner? That she had kidnapped him, and tore him away from you? “Why aren’t you angry at her? She took you from us! She let the other Alice kill (Y/N), she killed Sammy herself!”

 

“I _am_ angry,” Henry replied, his voice wavering as he fought to keep it level, “But killing her won’t solve anything. I think… I think it might just make things worse for us.”

 

Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back into the rocky earth beneath you. You suddenly didn’t know what to think, or what to feel. Sammy was angry. He was furious, and wanted Alice to pay for what she had done.

 

(Y/N) was scared. They were terrified, and sad, and… confused. They wanted to help Sammy, so they let him take control…

 

Or maybe they didn’t have a choice in the matter.

 

Suddenly, through the swarming thoughts and Henry’s words, you heard it.

 

The all-too familiar hissing voice of the Ink Demon.

 

It was distant, far enough not to affect or cause concern for everyone around you. It wasn’t even in the harbour.

 

But it was close enough for you to hear his call.

 

Your eyes opened wide, as if you could see his face before you.

 

“My lord…” You muttered, both voices tripping over each other as you spoke, “ _Our_ lord… he’s calling for us.”

 

Henry immediately moved to hold your face in his hands, gripping your cheeks tight as he stared deep into your eyes with a startling intensity.

 

“No, no, no,” Henry said, “Listen to me. He is not you lord. He can’t control you. Please, just listen to me…”

 

Blinking, your focus was trained on the man before you.

 

“Henry…” You muttered, “I'm scared, Henry. Both of us, we… we don’t know what to do.”

 

“I know…”  Henry sighed, “I know you are. All of this is crazy, and I'm so scared and confused…”

 

Henry remained silent as the inky tears began to run down your face from the corners of your eyes, settling down into the dirt.

 

“But I do know this…” Henry spoke up after brief pause, “You are not a monster. You are people – both of you are two human beings, caught up in a bad situation.”

 

“(Y/N),” Alice’s voice spoke up, and Henry got up off of you to sit at your side as the angel came into your line of sight. “That was your name, right…?”

 

“Yes…” (Y/N) said, “Yes, that was my name.”

 

“Henry told me about you.” She paused for a moment as you slowly sat up, your wide golden eyes staring up at her as she spoke. “I'm sorry… I'm really sorry, about everything. I didn’t mean for you to end up like this, I swear.”

 

You remained quiet at her words, looking from her to Henry, before turning your gaze to the Boris who was pinned down by several Searchers and Lost Ones. Sighing, you slowly stood to your feet.

 

Henry seemed to want to trust these two… and you trusted him. He’s managed to get this far without dying, which was more than either Sammy or (Y/N) could say. He didn’t get here by poor judgement – even if he was the one foolish enough to turn on the Ink Machine.

 

“Let him go.” Sammy spoke up, addressing the ones subduing the Boris. “As long as he doesn’t try anything… we won’t kill him.”

 

At his command, the Searchers and Lost Ones let go of Boris, and stepped back as he stood up and walked over to Alice’s side. Alice herself was still rather beat up – there were traces of ink smeared on her face, and the cut you gave her on her neck was still visible. Other than that, she seemed to have recovered just fine.

 

“To be perfectly clear though,” You said, looking between Alice and Boris as both Sammy’s and (Y/N)’s voices came through, “We still don’t entirely trust you.”

 

“I don’t blame you.” Alice replied, nodding in understanding. “But Henry trusts you, so… I will.”

 

“Now that we’ve got that all out of our system,” Henry spoke up, “Maybe we should start moving. We made a lot of noise, and I doubt the Ink Demon will overlook it.”

 

“You’re right.” You said, “We need to get you out of here as soon as we can. Come on, I can get us back up to the Music Department from here.”

 

Turning around, you led the way over to a nearby gate. Flipping a switch to open it, you looked back at the other three who followed you, and to the Searchers and Lost Ones who retreated back into their homes.

 

“Alright, you two...” Alice said, looking to you as she put her sword away. “Lead the way.”

 

Nodding, you cast a brief glance at Henry before turning back around, and walking forward to a boarded-up doorway. You easily cut through the few wooden boards with your axe, allowing your little group to continue without an issue.

 

You were met immediately with a seemingly bottomless chasm for a hallway, the only way across being a few old boards nailed together to make a not-so-safe bridge across.

 

“We should go one at a time.” You said, examining the weak wood carefully. “If we all went at once, it’d collapse under our combined weight.”

 

Looking back to make sure everyone understood, you then started across the first board on your own.  Once you got to the second board safely, you looked back and called to Henry to cross the first board.

 

It went relatively well – until you made it to the third board, and looked back just in time to see the wood beneath Henry’s feet splinter and break apart, plunging him down into the darkness below as you cried out to him.

 

_“Henry!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, posting this past 1 AM again haha...
> 
> I need sleep


	21. You Will Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acting as fast as you can, you move to pursue Henry. The Ink Demon has other plans for you, however...

The air around you felt colder all of a sudden, as you stared down the gaping pit that Henry had fallen down. Holding on tight to your axe, you trembled nervously as you called for him a second time.

 

“Henry!?”

 

Your voices echoed down the walls of the hole. Whether or not Henry heard your desperate call, you weren’t sure as you heard nothing in response.

 

“I’ve got some rope on me.” Alice spoke up, pulling a long line of rope from her belt. “We can go down after him to see if he’s alright, but we’ll need to go one at a time.”

 

Ink began to slowly dribble down your body as you trembled. No, no… why wasn’t he responding to you? Your voices were loud and clear, there was no way he couldn’t hear you. He had to hear you, he had to be alive; he couldn’t die now.

 

You couldn’t lose him again.

 

_“Henry!”_ You yelled once more, hoping that he’d call back and answer.

 

“Quiet down!”  Alice hissed in a low half-whisper, staring at you from across the pit. “Do you want the Ink Demon to find us?”

 

Tensing up at the mere mention of the Ink Demon, you then looked around fearfully. You didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. Any more noise and he would most definitely find you. Shivering at the thought of him getting his hands onto you – dragging you through the ink, toying with you… that was more than enough to shut you up.

 

Sighing softly, you forced yourself to calm down as Alice threw the rope down the hole, and tied it to a sturdy wooden pillar. After tugging on the rope a few times to ensure that it was safe enough, Alice then looked between you and Boris.

 

“We’re all set…” She said, “Who wants to go first?”

 

You were more than ready to hop down if it meant seeing Henry and ensuring his safety, but as always, Sammy had to be the voice of reason.

 

“We would,” Sammy said, “But how do we know you won’t just cut the rope?”

 

“Fine then.” She shrugged. “We’ll go first.”

 

At that, Boris placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head as she looked back at him. He pointed to you with his other hand, and made a slashing motion with his arm. Alice sighed, rubbing her forehead as she thought.

 

“Alright, alright…” She said, handing Boris her blade. “Tom, you go first. I can stay up here and keep and eye on (Y/N) and Sammy so they don’t cut the rope.”

 

Looking to you, she held out her empty hands as she continued.

 

“You two can go next, and I won’t be able to cut the rope. Then, once you’re both down, I’ll go. Does that sound okay?”

 

Taking a moment to think it over, you nodded slowly as Sammy spoke.

 

“Yeah, that sounds fair enough.” Sammy sighed, lowering your axe. You were still very much on edge, but there wasn’t much you could do right now but wait for Boris to go down – or “Tom,” as Alice called him.

 

Sitting down on the wooden floor, you let your legs dangle over the edge as you watched Tom begin climbing down the rope. He took a good long time; the climb down was long and seemed rather tedious. You almost wanted to jump down there yourself just so you wouldn’t have to wait.

 

Ignoring the impulse to do so, you simply closed your eyes and listened carefully to your surroundings.  Besides the shuffling of Tom climbing down the rope, you could faintly hear the Lost Ones and Searchers back in the harbour, mingling about and whispering to each other.

 

_Do you think they still worship the Ink Demon like you did?_

 

_I doubt it. They only did because I did._

 

“Hey, Sammy?”

 

Perking up, you looked up at Alice as she called his name.

 

“I know this sounds crazy, but… I think I remember you.” She said, sitting down across from you and letting her legs dangle in the same way you were. “Before all this, I mean. Before I was… Alice.”

 

Setting your axe to the side, you lifted a leg up so you could rest your arm over your knee. Looking at her, you remained silent and waited for her to elaborate.

 

“I don’t remember much, but… I remember hearing your voice often. I think I… I think I might have worked in the Music Department.”

 

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sift through Sammy’s vague and foggy memories. Both he and (Y/N) were certain that the first Alice they encountered was most definitely Susie, but who could this one be? She worked in the Music Department, she spoke with Sammy often…

 

Your head hurt as you tried to look too far back. Luckily, one name resurfaced through the flood of memories and voices you tried to search through. Angela? Alicia? No, not quite…

 

“Allison.” Sammy said as you opened your eyes, staring at her intently. “Allison… Angel? No, no… your last name was something different. But my memory is just as poor as yours – if not worse.”

 

She simply stared back at you with wide eyes, before she blinked and smiled.

 

“Allison…” She spoke slowly, as if she were testing how the name sounded. “Allison! Yes, that was my name!”

 

Jumping up to her feet, she paced around excitedly as she rehearsed her name out loud repeatedly. You didn’t bother trying to stop her, as you didn’t want to ruin her fun.

 

“Allison, Allison, Allison…” She repeated, spinning around before turning to face you once more. “I remember! My name is Allison! Oh, thank you Sammy!”

 

You simply nodded in response, remaining silent until she finally plopped herself back down on the floor across from you.

 

“Speaking of names…” You said, using both Sammy and (Y/N)’s voices. “Why call that Boris ‘Tom’?”

 

“I don’t know,” Allison answered, “He just seems like a Tom, and he responds to it well.”

 

Nodding, you looked down the pit to watch for the aforementioned cartoon wolf. You couldn’t see him through how dark the pit got, especially if he was anywhere near the bottom. Standing up, you grabbed hold of your axe, speaking as you stared down into the darkness below.

 

“Maybe I should head down; he’s probably at the bottom by now.”

 

Allison hummed in response, looking over the knot tying the rope to the pillar. She carefully tugged at the rope, before looking back up at you.

 

“The rope is still tense,” She said, “He’s not finished yet.”

 

Groaning, you paced around impatiently and lazily swung your axe around. You were bored, worried, scared for yourself, and you wanted to find Henry again _now._

 

“We can only stay in one place for so long, Allison.” You said, looking around warily. The hushed whispers of the Lost Ones and Searchers were silent now, and that hardly seemed like a good sign. “The Ink Demon is looking for us; it won’t be long before-”

 

Freezing immediately, you felt a chill run down your spine as you looked down at the other side of the hall. An inky black portal had opened beside the door, dark tendrils slithering out from it as the Ink Demon emerged.

 

_You two are trying my patience._

 

Stumbling back, you stopped as you felt the floor disappear under your heels. Holding onto the wall to keep yourself form falling back, you watched in horror as the Ink Demon crossed the wooden boards, stomping on the wood so hard you feared it would snap beneath him.

 

_After that last stunt you pulled, I won’t be nearly as forgiving._

 

Panicking, you looked back into the pit behind you, before coming up with another crazy plan.

 

Dangling your foot over the edge, you saw the Ink Demon come to a dead halt as he realised what you intended to do.

 

He was just far away enough that you had barely enough sentient thought, but if he came any closer… if those inky tendrils of his touched you…

 

You didn’t want to think of what would happen.

 

“One more step, and we’ll jump.” You said, staring down the Ink Demon with foolish bravery. “You need us for something, right? Well, it’d be an awful shame if we wound up lost in the puddles.”

 

“Wait,” Allison quietly spoke up from behind you, “What do you mean? What does he need you for?”

 

You remained silent at her question as you continued to stare at the demon before you. He simply tilted his head, before reaching out to you with an outstretched hand.

 

_Come here._

 

Suddenly, all the tension in your body disappeared, and you stepped forward away from the pit you threatened to throw yourself into. Your mind blanked out; not a single thought in your head was yours, or (Y/N)’s, or Sammy’s.

 

“No, wait!” Allison cried out from behind you, but her call fell on deaf ears. “(Y/N)! Sammy! Snap out of it, don’t give in to him!”

 

Snap out of it? Snap out of what? Everything is alright. Everything is just fine.

 

You continued to slowly walk forward, making your way to the Ink Demon. Yes, you were more than fine. The Ink Demon was here. Bendy was here. He wanted you. He _needed_ you.

 

Your lord needed you.

 

Coming to a halt in front of the Ink Demon, you stared up at him with your soft golden eyes. His ever-present grin seemed to grow wider as he looked down at you, bringing an inky hand up to caress your face. You remained still as his long, bony fingers ghosted over the indents placed over your eye – the remains of the wound – ** _blessing_** – he bestowed upon (Y/N).

 

_That’s it; little lamb… isn’t this nice? Isn’t this so much easier?_

 

“Yes, my lord.” You spoke softly, keeping your voice low and quiet. “I… We must apologise for our earlier behaviour. It won’t happen again, you have our word.”

 

The Ink Demon brought his other hand up, cupping your face with a startling amount of tenderness.

 

_Now, now, I'm not entirely without mercy. You were under the influence of the Creator… and he is a tricky one indeed._

 

Your mind was immediately filled with images of Henry. Recent memories of (Y/N)’s descent into the studio with him, how he helped them, how kind he was…

 

The clawed hand grabbing hold of your neck and squeezing your throat pulled you back out of those memories. Eyes widening in fear, you dropped your axe and brought your hands up to grip his arm as all gentleness disappeared from the Ink Demon.

 

_He is a liar, a traitor!_

 

Rasping out for breath, the Ink Demon only tightened his grip as he stared you down.

 

_You would do well not to help him further, little lamb…_

 

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” You gasped out, barely able to form the words as he crushed your throat in his hand.

 

At that, he let go, allowing you to collapse to the ground, taking a deep breath and sucking in as much air as your inky lungs could hold.

 

“I'm so sorry, my Lord…” You muttered, “We are both so terribly sorry… for everything we have done.”

 

Doubling over on the ground, you kept your head bowed down. No, you didn’t deserve to gaze upon his perfect form. Not after everything you had done, after turning against him time and time again.

 

“My Lord… _our_ Lord.” Closing your eyes, you trembled before him. “We deserve your anger. Your wrath, your rage… you are justified in everything you wish to do to us.”

 

The Ink Demon said nothing in response to your words. Instead, you heard the soft clatter of wood falling to the ground. You opened your eyes, looking at the source to find Sammy’s old mask lying on the ground at the demon’s feet. The mask was in perfect condition, despite the fact that you had snapped it in half.

 

_Rise._

 

Sitting up, you lifted your gaze up to the Ink Demon’s face.

 

_I will forgive your past wrongdoings, so long as you do not repeat them._

 

Your breath hitched at his words, but you were quick to nod in response.

 

“We will not be so easily deceived by the Creator,” You said, “Not again.”

 

The Ink demon remained still and silent for a few moments, before turning around and summoning a portal in the wall where he had initially come from.

 

_Come now, little lamb…_

 

**_We have work to do._ **


	22. The Demon's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avoiding death and navigating his way through Administration, there's only one thing Henry can do... press on.

Sighing heavily, Henry stepped back after he placed the final pipe in place. The Butcher Gang had caused him a lot of trouble while he went through the offices, but he managed to get by without them killing him. Stepping back from the wall of pipes, he turned a nearby valve, and watched in satisfaction as the corridor was drained of the ink that had flooded it and kept the doorway sealed.

 

Now he could access the Film Vault.

 

Did he know exactly what he was doing? Well, truth be told, not quite. But he had a feeling that whatever it was that was kept inside the vault was important, and might help him in some way or another.

 

Opening the door and entering the previously flooded hallway, Henry walked forward and opened the next door with ease.

 

He paused as he entered, however; staring at the steel vault door that now lied off to the side. The steel was at least a foot thick, yet it had been ripped away from the wall and tossed aside so carelessly, like it weighted nothing. Swallowing thickly, Henry pressed forward, refusing to let the demonstration of the Ink Demon’s strength deter him from his current objective.

 

Entering the steel vault, he glanced around at the boxes surrounding the confined room. Most of them were empty. If he had to guess, the contents were likely taken by the Ink Demon. Maybe there was nothing here after all…

 

Humming to himself, Henry opened one of the closed cardboard boxes, finding two film reels and a puddle of thick ink inside.

 

“Looks like whatever was here was taken long ago…”

 

Henry jumped at the voice, turning around to find Alice and Tom entering the vault behind him. Furrowing his brows, he calmed the sudden spike in his heart rate as he spoke.

 

“How did you get down here?” He asked, looking between the two.

 

Wait, where were you…? Why weren’t you here with them?

 

“It pays to carry a rope,” Alice answered, “You should try it.”

 

Henry stared skeptically at Alice, and then turned his gaze to look behind the two, half-expecting you to run up behind them. He hoped you had simply fallen behind, and that you would turn up any second now.

 

“Where’s (Y/N) and Sammy?” He asked, looking back to Alice.

 

Alice fell silent at his words, shifting her gaze to look at anything but him. Henry could feel his gut twist itself into knots as a feeling of dread began to set it. Oh god, what happened to you this time?

 

“Alice,” Henry insisted, “What happened to them? Where are they?”

 

“The Ink Demon came when we were still trying to climb down.” She said, staring down at the ground and wrapping her arms around her thin body. “He _did_ something to them. They acted completely different, and… I couldn’t do anything to help them.”

 

Oh god, he felt sick. He felt physically ill.

 

Not again. Dammit, why did he let this happen again? He should’ve been more careful, if he didn’t fall down then he would’ve been there to help you.

 

Letting out a shaky breath, he could feel tears begin to blur his vision. Blinking them away, he slowly processed Alice’s words before he spoke again.

 

“You couldn’t do anything?”

 

Alice shook her head solemnly; it seemed that she was just as torn up about it as Henry was.

 

“They were all on the other side of the hole,” She said, “I wouldn’t have been able to make that kind of jump.”

 

Letting out a deep sigh, Henry rubbed his face with his hands. Why couldn’t things go well for five minutes?

 

“I'm sorry, Henry.” Alice said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get them back, I promise.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Henry looked up at her with tired eyes. Mustering up a small smile, he thanked her.

 

“I know where we have to go…” He said, standing up straight and staring at the two with a determined gaze. “But it’s not going to be pleasant.”

 

Alice and Tom glanced at each other as Henry spoke, before staring back at him as he continued.

 

“The Ink Demon took Sammy and (Y/N)… So I'm going after him.”

 

 “You think he took them to his lair?” Alice asked, “How do you know for sure?”

 

“That’s where the trail seems to lead,” Henry said, “If the Ink Demon wanted to take them anywhere else, he would’ve gotten ahold of them a lot sooner.”

 

“Well, it’s probably close by…” Alice sighed, looking over to the metal door within the vault. “It’s probably through that door. But it won’t be easy to open… I’ll need three gears, a crowbar, some kind of counterbalance…”

 

Before Alice could finish, Tom stepped toward the sealed door, and pried if open with his robotic arm. Both Alice and Henry stared in an awed silence for a few moments, before Alice spoke again.

 

“Huh… Well, that works too, I guess.”

 

Wasting no time, Henry started forward through the opened door. Walking hastily through the hallway, Henry was somewhat taken aback when he found that the structure was nearly identical to that of the main floor.

 

He didn’t dwell on it, though. Instead of pondering how or why they seemed to have made a full circle back up to the Art Department, he pressed on and pushed forward. Passing by a running projector and a locked door, he continued down the hall to find his old desk. He paused only for a brief second, before shaking his head and moving on through the hallway that ran behind it.

 

Coming upon a corridor lined with windows, Henry came to a dead halt and stared through the glass as inky tendrils enveloped the area.

 

“Quiet.” Alice spoke softly, “Don’t make any noise…”

 

Henry swallowed thickly as the Ink Demon emerged from the wall, his eyes widening when he saw you trailing close behind him. He could feel his blood run cold when he saw the mask you wore, causing him to remember his time in the Music Department and how Sammy had attempted to sacrifice him.

 

It seemed like things weren’t going to be much different.

 

Creeping quietly along the corridor, the three continued on. Turning a corner and walking past a single word written in ink on the wall, they followed the arrow onward to “death.”

 

Almost immediately after, they entered the room where the ink machine was to be docked, slowly being lowered down into an even larger Ink Machine.

 

“Wow!” Alice spoke in awe as she stepped forward. “I’ve never seen this before!”

 

Stopping at where the ink flooded the floor, she looked down at the ink and around the room.

 

“I don’t see any way around…” She said, “Nothing to build a raft with.”

 

“We’ll have to wade across.” Henry stated, stepping forward to stand beside her.

 

“We can’t...” Alice said, shaking her head as she turned to look at Henry. “We’re not like you, Henry. If we go in there, well… a drop of water in the ocean is rarely seen again.”

 

Tom walked up, joining the other two at the side of the shallow sea of ink.

 

“Then I guess it’s all up to me…” Henry muttered, staring across the ink towards the entrance of the Ink Machine as he sighed.  “And I don’t even know why I'm here. I don’t even know why this is all happening to me…”

 

“You’re here for a reason Henry.” Alice said, staring softly into his eyes as she spoke. “And right now… that reason is to save (Y/N); to save us all.”

 

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Henry nodded slowly as he met her gaze.

 

“It’s time.” She said, stepping back away from the ink. “Save them, Henry. Save them, and set us free.”

 

Henry looked back at Alice as she stepped down, and then looked to Tom who kept his stern gaze fixed on him. Remaining as silent and stoic as he always did, he simply held out his gent pipe for Henry to take.

 

Raising his eyebrows in mild surprise, Henry gratefully took the weapon offered to him.

 

“Thanks, Tom.” He said. Tom simply nodded in response, before walking away to stand at Alice’s side.

 

Henry turned to leave, but paused when he heard Alice call his name. Turning around, he stared back at her, waiting for her to speak her mind.

 

“My name is Allison!” She said with a grin. Henry smiled back in response, and waved as he spoke.

 

“Thanks for everything, Allison.”

 

Turning back to face the Ink Machine, Henry stepped into the shallow ink flood. As he waded through the knee-deep ink, he couldn’t help but remember his time back on Level 14, where he met Norman. He never did find out what really happened that sent him back into the puddles. Was Norman still in the puddles? Or was he able to pull himself out?

 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Henry stepped up to enter the Ink Machine. Perhaps he’ll never know.

 

Walking down a long steel corridor, Henry soon found himself in a room with what appeared to be displays of frozen Lost Ones, all kept behind glass as ink flowed down upon them. Holding on tight to his pipe, he pulled a nearby lever, opening the large steel door before him.

 

As it opened, he was startled to see who was standing on the other side of the door.

 

“Sammy? (Y/N)?” Henry stuttered out, looking over them nervously. He couldn’t help but notice the four-fingered hands that they definitely didn’t have before when he had reunited with them.

 

“Sorry, it’s just Sammy in here now.” He said, stepping forward and raising his axe threateningly. “My Lord has _special_ plans for our little lamb…”

 

“Sammy, please…” Henry begged, stepping back as Sammy loomed ominously over his shorter form. “You don’t have to do this; I'm here to help you.”

 

Ducking out of the way as he swung his axe, Henry only barely got out of the way in time to avoid getting hit.

 

“Do not _lie_ to me, Creator!” Sammy spat, swinging his axe again.

 

“I'm not lying!” Henry cried out, bringing his pipe up to block the axe swung at him. “I don’t want to fight you; I came here to help you!”

 

Managing to push Sammy away, Henry stumbled backwards into the glass casing of a Lost One. Sammy simply stood there for a moment, looking up past Henry into the case he stood in front of.

 

Before he could move, two hands grabbed at Henry’s arms and pulled him back against the glass. Shouting out in fear, he looked back to find the Lost One’s arms merging through their glass container, holding onto him and keeping him pinned back.

 

“Good work, little sheep…” Sammy muttered to the Lost One, before addressing Henry once again. “Now, dear Creator…”

 

“Sammy please, don’t do this!” Henry’s eyes widened as he struggled against the Lost One’s grasp, only for his efforts to remain futile.

 

Sammy stepped forward, raising his axe high above his head as he prepared to end Henry’s life. There wasn’t a single hint of hesitation in his voice as he swung down at Henry’s head.

 

_“It’s time for sleep!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really getting close to the end here folks... I'm so hyped, and I'm the one writing this! 
> 
> And don't worry, I've read your comments! I promise that everything will be explained one way or another (looking at you, Ring_Apple! You're asking all the right questions, and they will be answered soon I promise!)
> 
> One thing I do want to say though just to get it out of the way is that this fic does not fit in the "batim is just a story" theory and there are no time-loops happening. I started this fic with the idea of all this happening to Henry and the reader irl, and I will finish it with the same thought in mind.


End file.
